Danny Arrows
by MavsGirl22
Summary: Danny Arrows and Elena Carey live separate lives in a world where the Gifted are required to use their special abilities to serve the Royal Family. When they are both summoned to stand before the Counsel, they dive headfirst into a reality that neither of them are expecting. Can Danny learn the truth in time and will Elena trust him in order to save everything she's ever known?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Elena

The letter came only three days ago and already I'm worried I might forget how life was before I got it. The days of working in the fields with my brother and the evenings of reading stories with my sister already seem like a lifetime ago. Before we left two days ago, I walked through our small house one last time, trying to imprint in my memory exactly how it all looked. The table where we used to play card games in the kitchen. The fireplace in the living room where Dad used to tell us ghost stories. The lamp in our parents' bedroom that my brother and I knocked over when we were six. I remember crying when it broke, worried about getting in trouble, but Elliot somehow fixed it before Mom came home from the hospital that day.

Mom's artwork still hangs on the walls. Her last piece lays unfinished on an easel in the front room, never to be completed. Dad's boots still stand by the front door awaiting their next trek through the fields the second he comes home. The house was emptier with our parents' absence over the last year, but somehow we managed. No matter what lies ahead of us now, I'll never forget the little life we had in Northern Territory. I find it surprising how distant that life feels now as we ride the noisy train headed south. Three days might as well be three decades.

Even now, cramped in the too-small train seat with my little sister's nose pressed against the glass to my left and my twin brother snoozing in the seat opposite me, the letter sits folded in my jacket pocket. I don't need to look at it anymore to remember what it says. I've read it so many times since it arrived that I have it memorized. I keep thinking that maybe if I read it again and again, eventually it'll have a different message. It never does.

**_Elena Carey,_**

**_You are to report to Royal City to stand before the Counsel as a candidate for admission as a Royal Healer. Congratulations on this renowned honor to serve the Royal Family. You have four days to comply. Should you choose to ignore this request, the consequences shall be decided upon by the Counsel._**

It wasn't signed by anyone, but I know where it came from. I've spent most of my life hiding from the Talent Seekers that scour the earth looking for Gifteds. It's difficult to keep a Gift like mine hidden from the world, especially when I know how much good I could do if I was allowed to use it openly. Healing capabilities are extremely rare, and even those that possess the Gift are usually limited to minor injuries. In fact, I've never met another Healer. Not in my entire life. From the time I was a little kid, I've had to hide what I am. My mom was the only one who ever encouraged my Gift. She always said that I had a duty to the world to use it, even though it put the rest of my family in danger.

It was so much easier to hide my Gift when my parents were still around. Mom played the part of the local nurse, and the sick and injured came to her seeking relief. No one ever suspected it was actually her Gifted daughter that alleviated their pain, not the placebo medicines. It was a source of contention for my parents: my Gift. So many arguments... Dad warning Mom that the Seekers would eventually find me. That it was only a matter of time. And sadly, he was right.

"It smells funny here."

I look up from my sketch pad and over at my little sister. Sabella is raised up on her knees, her fingers gripping the window ledge and her small nose crinkled up in disgust. I feel a smile on my face as I watch her.

"We must be getting close." Elliot, my twin brother, looks up from under the brim of his hat, his arms folded across his chest as he slouches down in his seat. Until now, I was convinced he was sleeping, though I admit that such a feat in the racket of the train ride would be near impossible. He hasn't said anything since our last stop over three hours ago. In fact, most of the trip has been accompanied by his silence since we left North City Station a day ago.

I miss the old Elliot. The one who was full of jokes and sarcastic remarks. The Elliot who used to wiggle his eyebrows and poke me in the ribs. His jokes were corny but he, like our dad, could always make me laugh. I look down at the sketch I'd been drawing of him. The face on the page stares back at me with a grin. I worry that that Elliot is long gone.

He leans across his seat to look out his own window with the same look of disgust as Sabella. "It smells like confinement and slavery."

I sigh, "That doesn't even make sense." I take a deep breath, registering several different smells that are all new to me. "I'm sure it's just the smell of the city. Something we aren't used to."

Elliot closes the curtains over the two windows, "Whatever it is, it's strong."

Sabella sits back in her seat, crossing her pudgy little arms and pouting. "We've been to the city and it's never smelled like that."

"Sabella, Royal City is nothing like any of the cities back home," Elliot points out.

"How do you know?" Sabella argues. "You've never been there."

"I just know," Elliot glares in the direction of the closed curtains. Then he crosses his arms into their prior position firmly across his chest and pulls his hat back down over his face.

Sabella scowls at him, "If you know, then tell me what it's like there."

"It's dark and dirty and full of people who are selfish and cruel." Elliot answers all at once from under his hat.

Sabella's mouth drops open in shock and I scowl at my brother's response before smiling down at our younger sister, "Bells, do you remember those books we used to read with Mom? Remember the one about the traveling circus?"

She nods apprehensively, "You mean the _The King's Carnival." _

"That's right. The book was about a circus that traveled all over the world. Do you remember the part when they visited the king and queen?"

Sabella finally smiles at me. "Of course! They put on a show for the king's birthday and everyone came to see. The entire city was there."

I nod. "They had to go through a lot of trouble to go, remember? But once they finally reached the city, it was a magical place. There were lanterns lining the city streets and parks with huge fountains flowing with pink water. Musicians were everywhere playing all kinds of crazy instruments-"

"And food!" Sabella chimes in, excitedly. "There were restaurants with all different kinds of food that smelled so good!"

"You're right! They had food and drinks that the circus people had never seen before. The city was new and different, but it was beautiful. And that city..."

Sabella gasps animatedly and shoots back to the window. Her little head disappears under the curtain as she presses her nose against the glass again. "Elena, do you mean that's the city we're going to? The city with the colorful buildings and the streets lined in lights?"

I pull Sabella's curtain open again, looking over her shoulder and past the window to the rushing scenery. Approaching our side of the train I can just make out the edge of a city glowing in the light of dusk. "Yes Bells, that's where we are going."

Elliot sighs and gets up to leave, muttering something about the streets probably being lined in something other than lights.

His actions earn him another scowl from Sabella. "See Ellie? It's not dark and dirty. You don't know what you're talking about." She sticks out her tongue for emphasis.

He waves her off as he sulks down the jolting train car, struggling to keep his balance as it hits a particularly big bump.

Sabella turns back to her window for a few moments. I watch my twin disappear down the train aisle with a frown. Sabella suddenly sighs dramatically. "Wow, it's so pretty. And we get to live there?"

I nod, trying to hide my disappointment at the thought of living in Royal City. Sabella doesn't know about the letter. She doesn't know that the three of us are on our way to this new city because if we don't, I'll most likely be arrested and imprisoned for crimes against the Royal Family. At least, that's what Elliot says happens to the Gifteds that don't comply with the Counsel. It's important to me to not let Sabella see this disappointment. I struggle to smile convincingly, "Yes Bells. We get to live there."

I know that the next words out of my little sister's mouth will be to ask if I brought along the book about the traveling circus, the king and queen, and their magical city. I pull it out of the pack under my seat, hitting my head against the empty seat across from me. Two days on this cramped train have been enough and for the first time in three days, I found myself anxious to reach our destination. My fingers lightly trace the golden letterson the book that Mom read to us so many nights. Fond memories begin to bubble out of my subconsciousness, but they sour quickly as they always do. I hand the book to Sabella before I can think anymore on it. She opens it eagerly and sits with it sprawled across her tiny lap.

"I'm going to go see where Ellie went, ok?" I smooth the hair over Sabella's head, sure that my words are most likely falling on deaf ears. Sabella nods faintly as she flips through the colorful pictures, her eyes betraying that her mind is lost in a fairytale world far away from the loud bumpy train. Satisfied that my sister is content for the next several minutes, I set off in the direction Elliot had gone.

I dreaded telling my brother about the letter from the second it arrived. I knew what his reaction would be when he found out. Elliot has always had a less-than-favorable opinion of Royal City and its inhabitants, including the Royal Family. However, it wasn't until after our mom's death that his opinion turned into what I consider irrational hatred. I'm convinced that he blames our mother's death on the Royalists, the inhabitants of Royal City. Our father shared in that hatred and after he was arrested and charged with crimes against the Royal Family, it's become impossible to convince Elliot otherwise.

The circumstances surrounding Mom's death are vague at best, but I can't see how the Royalists would be at all involved. It makes no sense. Our mother was no one of any political importance, she held no principal title or stature. There's no way her death is connected to anyone or anything in a city so far from home. Her death was tragic and untimely and a horrible horrible accident. But it was not a conspiracy.

I know my brother, and I realize Elliot's blame for what it is: a reason. The death of a parent is a terrible experience to go through, and its grief and emptiness is that much worse when it's senseless. In Elliot's mind, if our mother died with cause, it's easier to accept than her death having no reason. At least, that's my theory.

Before our mother's death and father's arrest, Elliot was charismatic, charming, and always good for a laugh. Making people smile was one of his best qualities and his own smile made the rest of him light up a room. I miss that brother. He's been replaced by a cynical and worrisome boy who spends most of his time wearing a frown or scowl.

Sometimes, I'm convinced I know my brother better than myself. Not surprising. He is my twin after all and we share so much more than just a birthday. Which is how I know exactly where to find him on the train.

I head for the rear car, already knowing what I'll find: Elliot, standing on the rear platform, leaning over the railing and watching the rail ties wiz by with a sour scowl on his face. I pull open the rear door, and there he is, just as I knew he would be. His hat is folded and tucked in his back pocket, letting the wind rustle through his hair. It's the same chestnut color as mine. I lean over the railing next to him. It has been a very long train ride to this point and I'm content to watch the passing scenery in silence for a while.

The setting sun has turned the landscape and the few buildings that dart by to a soft purple and blue. Dusk has always been my favorite time of day. At home, it signals the end of a long day working in the fields. When we could go home and spend time with family and friends. A couple years ago that meant helping my mom finish dinner while Elliot and Dad fed the animals. Most recently it's been starting dinner on my own while Elliot tries to help Sabella with her homework.

After several long minutes, Elliot breaks the silence. "Do you remember that train ride we took with Mom and Dad?"

It's a happy memory. "Of course I remember it. We were going to the White Mountains to go sledding for our birthday. We begged them for weeks to take us."

He nods. "We must have been about Sabella's age."

"You're right. I think it was our eighth birthday." I remember the trip vividly. In my mind's eye my eight year old self sits on the train seat next to my father, admiring the mountain peaks that beckon from the distance and envisioning myself gliding gracefully over their peaks. Mom was pregnant with Sabella at the time, so she didn't spent much time on a sled during that particular trip. Me, Elliot, and Dad spent two blissful days soaring over the mountain while the four of us sat around the fire at night drinking hot cocoa and laughing at Dad's stories and antics. I can't remember a time in my life when I felt more happy and safe in the world.

Elliot stirs beside me, waking me from my reveries. "I never thought then that our next train ride would be headed for Royal City." He sighs heavily and hangs his head. "Or that Mom would be dead and Dad would be in jail."

"It is hard to believe." I say softly. Several more minutes pass in silence before I turn to my brother. "I know you aren't happy about this."

Elliot remains silent. I affix my gaze on a distant hillside, one of the last remaining in sight as we approach the outer limits of the city. The train is slowing and I can almost count how many streets and buildings are passing by. My heart sinks when I realize how much I'll miss the countryside.

"I'm not thrilled about it either, but there's nothing either one of us can do to change it. I tried to get you and Bells to stay home-"

"You know I would never let you go by yourself. It's way too dangerous," he interrupts. "I only wish we didn't have to get Sabella wrapped up in this."

"Ellie..."

Elliot shoots me a warning look, "You know I hate it when you call me that. You've been able to say my name now since we were two."

I roll my eyes and continue, "_Elliot, _I know you're concerned, but this could be a new start for us. Things have been really hard since Dad was arrested, and I think that we can make things work in Royal City."

Truthfully, I would be quite content to stay at home in Northern Territory. I like it there where life is simple.

"And your business with the Counsel?" Elliot asks. "Are you going to make that work, too? Elena, you know they don't want you to just Heal one person and send you home. Once they see what you can do, you'll be their's forever."

"I know," I concede. "But maybe working with the Counsel won't be so bad."

Elliot shakes his head, the scowl returning to his face immediately. "Working _with_ the Counsel? I think you mean working _for_ the Counsel."

"Elliot," I touch my brother's arm. He turns away, shaking his head.

"You don't get it," he says. "I should have never let them find you. I should have done a better job hiding you, like Dad did."

"It's not your fault," I argue. "The seekers would have found me no matter what we did."

Elliot's expression is clear that he doesn't agree with me, but he doesn't argue. "I know you think I'm crazy, but I don't trust these people. I don't think any good will come of this. At all. I'll have no way to protect you if and when something bad happens."

"I understand, but I really need your support on this. You and I both know that I don't have a choice in the matter. It was either come here, or go to jail."

The train's brakes begin to squeal as we approach what I assume is the station. The engine whistles loudly to signal our arrival and I can imagine people in the other cars getting their bags ready to depart. Sabella will be wondering where we are. I look once more to Elliot. "Please, can you at least try to make it work here?"

He lets out a slow breath and finally meets my eyes. "Okay."

The train stops and the door behind us opens automatically. To the side I can see a huge sign hanging over the station platform. In big red letters lined in gold it reads: _Royal City Station._

I turn back to my twin, holding out my arm."Promise?"

Elliot pauses before slowly grabbing my elbow. In return, I grab his elbow in a gesture we've used since we were little. To us, it's the ultimate commitment. "Promise."

* * *

><p>Danny<p>

I sit on my bunk, my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. Clutched in my right fist: a red envelope with my name scrawled across it in black lettering.

_**Danny Arrows**_

I know that I should be excited. I should feel honored and relieved that the letter has come. I've seen dozens of other Apprentices' reactions when getting their letters. Most of them boasted proudly about it, eager to show it off at every opportunity. Some of them were quiet and reserved, but there was never any doubt to their satisfaction at being chosen.

I don't feel any of this. I don't feel pride or honor. I am mostly confused and unsure. It's still two years until my eighteenth birthday. Surely the Counsel must be mistaken.

Immediately, my mind triggers. No, of course they are not mistaken. "The Counsel does not make mistakes, they do not falter, and they never fail. I trust the Counsel and their decision."

I take a deep breath and look one last time at the still-sealed envelope before sliding it into my back pocket. I just can't bring myself to open it yet. Today is Sunday, which means that I'll be visiting my uncle following afternoon training with Master Doran. I'll open it then. The news will be more exciting in the presence of the only family I have.

"You will be late to sparring."

I look up to see Aari standing in my doorway looking at me expectantly. _Did_ _she see the envelope?_ She'll know just as I do what the red envelope means.

"Well?" In a flash she is at my side, pulling me off the bunk and towards the door. I've known Aari for seven years, since she became an Apprentice at age five, and her ability to mimic my Gift still leaves me a little unnerved when she uses it outside the sparring rings. "Master Zane will not like it if you are late."

"I'm not late." I pull my arm free and follow her out the door. She didn't see the envelope after all.

"We should hurry."

I look at my wrist watch. Aari is right, we are due in formation in the gym in less than a minute. "You're right. Let's go."

I inhale deeply and in an instant the dormitory hallway blurs out of existence. I can feel Aari racing along beside me as she uses her Gift to mimic mine. In just a few seconds we travel the half mile to the gym. I slow down my heart rate and come to a stop.

We arrive at the sparring gym precisely at 1pm, just I have every Sunday for as long as I can remember. I line up with my fellow Apprentices along the east wall of the gym, where we await Master Zane's assignment for the day. To my left stands Loch, the eighteen year old whose bunk room is across the hall from mine. I wonder if Loch received a similar envelope this morning during lessons. I strain my eyes as far to the left as I can without breaking formation.

Loch joined the Apprentices eight years ago. He was ten years old but he was nearly six feet tall and could throw a full grown man across a room. Now he stands at six feet and eleven inches and can throw a full grown man over a hundred yards. One look at Loch and you know immediately he's a Gifted. I'm surprised the Talent Seekers took so long to find him.

We've stood by each other during Master Zane's sparring lessons for eight years. I know that Loch's arms are bent at exactly ninety degrees, his hands are perfectly perpendicular behind his back and his feet are exactly eighteen inches apart. With his perfect proprioception, Loch has turned standing at attention into an exact science. He's stood this way every afternoon for the last eight years. However, something is different about my neighbor this time. Loch is grinding his teeth and clenching and unclenching his jaw, an act that I have never seen him do before. It doesn't necessarily mean that he's also gotten his letter from the Counsel, but it is a good sign.

"Apprentices, why are you here?"

At once and in perfect unison, nine voices answer. _"To train our bodies for battle, Master Zane."_

"Who do you battle?"

"_We battle those that trespass against the Royal Family._"

"What is your goal?"

"_To be an Elitist_." I falter slightly, thinking of the unopened envelope in my pocket. I quickly look to see if the Master has noticed. He hasn't. Master Zane is at the far end of the line, his shrewd black eyes scanning the line of Apprentices while he makes sparring assignments.

I make it through the two hours of sparring relying heavily on instinct. My mind is far from the gym and I'm glad to be assigned to two of the weaker Apprentices: Grady and Blane. Even being distracted, they're no match for me. I am skilled with many weapons, but the bow and arrow are my favorite. With my speed I can empty a quiver of arrows before the first one hits its target. Even I can see the irony in Danny Arrows being a master with arrows.

Once the two hours are up, I duck quietly out of the gym to avoid questions from my fellow Apprentices. The Counsel only sends out the red envelopes twice a year. Typically there are two to three Testers picked at a time. I am sure that I'm not the only one with a red envelope and I'm not eager to discuss it with anyone.

I get through my private lessons with Master Doran in much the same way, depending on instinct and past experience. I wonder if Master Doran knows about the letter, and if he'll say anything to me about it. We train for our usual two hours. He doesn't mention it. As soon as lessons are over, I hurry towards my uncle's building in the next Capital Ring. In less than a minute I am at Uncle's building and am walking down the long hallway to his apartment.

I've walked this hallway hundreds, maybe thousands, of times before. Every Sunday I have been an Apprentice, which is most of my life, I have used the only free hours I have all week to see Uncle Dagher. I can remember visits when I was just a child, eager to see a friendly face that wasn't shouting at me or pushing my body to its limits. This particular day I need that friendly face to reassure me that the Counsel's decision to have me Test a full two years before my eighteenth birthday is a good one.

I raise my hand to knock on the door but before my knuckles can make contact it swings open. I jump, startled. "Uncle Dagher! I hate it when you do that."

My uncle is a tall muscular man with grey eyes the same color as mine. Besides the bits of grey that have found their way into his dark hair, he looks exactly as he has the entire sixteen years I have known him. He laughs and slaps me on the back, "That's why I do it. You should be used to it by now, kid." He pulls me inside and shuts the door.

He is right, I should be used to Dagher's Gift. He can see through walls and doors by reading the vibrations in the floor. Had my mind not been a million miles away, I'd have probably remembered that. I might have even used my own Gifts to avoid detection. It was, after all, Dagher that helped coach me when I was younger on how to heighten my senses. Before he taught me to perfect my sight and hearing, it was nearly impossible not to crash into things while I was using my Gift.

Uncle Dagher walks into the kitchen, gesturing behind him. "Come on, I've got tea on the stove and I know you need another butt-kicking in cards."

The apartment that the Counsel supplies for my uncle is small, but efficient. He'll soon be moved to one of the upper floors though, where the rest of the Imperial Judges in the Royal Court live. His promotion is only a couple weeks away and half-packed boxes litter the apartment floor.

I don't know much about Uncle Dagher's past, except that he was once an Elitist and, to my knowledge, he is the only one to ever leave the group. After that he served the Counsel as a prosecutor in the Royal Court, bringing charges against those that committed crimes against the Royal Family. That is until recently, when he was promoted to Imperial Judge.

The thought has occurred to me several times to ask Uncle about his past._ How did he stop being an Elitist? Why is he the only one to leave the Elitists? Why am I the only Apprentice allowed to keep contact with a family member?_ But it isn't my place as an Apprentice to ask questions. Even of my own family.

"Sit down, Kid." Uncle Dagher gestures to a chair at his small kitchen table. Two empty cups and a deck of cards sit on the table, along with piles of papers that I assume are related to a court case. "Sorry about the mess. You wouldn't believe how busy we've been at the court house. This promotion couldn't have come at a worse time. I barely have time to wrap up the cases I'm working on, much less pack and make preparations for the new job. "

I do as I am told while my uncle pours steaming tea into the two cups. The letter suddenly feels very heavy in my pocket. I know Dagher will soon pick up on my anxiety. No use beating around the bush. "Uncle, I have news."

Uncle Dagher pauses before setting the tea kettle back on the stove and taking the seat opposite me at the table. He shoves the piles of papers aside, rests his elbows on the table, and crosses his hands under his chin. His sleeves pull down low enough that I can see the black tattoos encircling his wrists. _Bound by Duty i_s written around both wrists, permanently marking him as an Elitist. "What news is that?"

I draw a deep breath and slowly pull the red envelope out of my back pocket. I hesitate before meeting Uncle Dagher's eyes.

His face is frozen. His eyes are locked on the envelope but somehow they seem a million miles away. The edges of his mouth are drawn tight.

"It came this morning." I sit the envelope down on the table so that the black seal keeping it closed is facing up. In the wax is the emblem of the Counsel: a letter "C" with three circles around it. "I have not opened it yet."

"I can see that. Why not?"

I ponder that question. _Why have I not opened it?_ "I do not know."

Uncle suddenly picks the envelope up and runs his finger under the seal, releasing it from the paper. "Danny, prolonging the action does not make it go away." He pulls the letter out and hands it to me. "Read it."

I don't really need to read the letter to know what it's message is. Every Apprentice knows what the red envelope means. But I do anyways.

**_Danny Arrows,_**

**_You are summoned to Test before the Counsel for admission into the Elitists. Congratulations on this great honor to serve the Royal Family. Starting Monday you will have a revised schedule to prepare you for your Test which will take place two weeks from today. Should you succeed, you will be inducted as Elitist Arrows._**

I finish reading the letter aloud and drop the paper back to the table. There is a long silence during which I have a hard time tearing my eyes away from the words _Elitist Arrows_. Knowing what the message would say hasn't prepared me for the reality of receiving it. I knew this day would come. Every Apprentice gets the letter eventually. It's the whole point of being an Apprentice, it was why I was chosen by the Counsel and the Talent Seekers all those years ago. I can't even remember my old life. The only life I know is the one I've spent preparing for this day. I've been training with the Masters for twelve years so that when I get this letter I'll be ready. Finally, Uncle Dagher breaks the silence.

"This is a great honor, Danny."

I meet his gaze. "I know, Uncle, but I don't understand. I'm only sixteen. I should still have two years before I'm eligible."

Uncle Dagher nods, "You are right. Typically the Apprentice is only eligible for Testing after their eighteenth birthday. But, the Counsel must think you are ready to Test, or they would not have ordered it."

"But I'm not ready! There must be some mistake." I don't realize it until I say it out loud: _I'm not ready._

"Danny, the Counsel does not make mistakes..."

"...they do not falter and they never fail. I know, I know." I run my hands through my hair, shaking my head. "I don't feel ready for it. I should have more time."

My uncle sighs heavily, his face softening. He reaches across the table and grabs my shoulder. "Kid, you are one of the most powerful Apprentices I've ever seen. And remember, I have to include myself in that category. You will be a fearful Elitist."

I feel... unwoven. Like something inside of me is coming unraveled and I don't know how to stop it. _This is all wrong. I should still have two more years. _I don't argue with Uncle Dagher. "I hope you are right, Uncle."

Uncle Dagher stands up suddenly, "I think this calls for something a little stronger than tea. You are a man now and we need a man's drink." He strides towards the cabinet over the stove and pulls down a clear bottle half full with amber-colored liquid. He sits the bottle down in the middle of the table with a loud thud along with two small glasses. "I guess this means I've got to stop calling you _kid_."

As soon as he uncorks the bottle, the strong scent of the liquor reaches my nose. Dagher pours the glasses and hands one to me. He holds his up to the air with a proud grin on his face, "To honor!"

I raise my glass to his. "To servitude."


	2. 1 Elena

**1. Elena**

"I can't believe we've been in Royal City for thirty minutes and we're already lost." I look once again at the map we picked up at the train station. "It looks like we should head this way two blocks and then turn right."

"Let me look at that." Elliot grabs the map out of my hands. He scrutinizes the markings on the map, comparing them to their immediate surroundings before, exasperated, he turns the map around. "Elena, you're looking at it upside down!"

"Are you sure?" I peer over Elliot's shoulder. "How can you tell?"

"Just leave the map reading to me." He shrugs me off his shoulder and starts walking back in the direction we came from. "I don't know why we even gave you the map in the first place, you were never any good at navigating."

I have no argument for that. I've always been _directionally challenged_, as our father put it. But I was so sure that it'd be simple to get around this city. One glance at the map and it's easy to see the grid pattern of the streets that all spread out from three concentric circles – the Capital Rings – in the middle of the map. In fact, the entire city looks like one big bull's eye from the sky, with the Royal Estate and the Counsel's upper ring right in the middle.

I grab Sabella's hand and pull her along behind Elliot. Sabella's eyes are wide as they take in all the details of the city streets. I'm quite sure my sister hasn't blinked since we got off the train. I don't blame her, the city is something to behold.

It isn't entirely unlike the city in Sabella's book. I haven't seen any pink fountains or musicians yet, but the streets are strung with lights that light up the twilight sky in a soft ethereal glow. In the light of the fading day, it is quite breathtaking and like nothing I've ever seen in Northern Territory.

According to a large blue sign, we are currently in the Shopping District. The quiet streets are lined with dozens of store fronts with colorful signs and big intricate window displays that beckon to passersby. Most of the shops are closed for the evening but some merchants are still selling goods from carts that dot the sidewalks.

Mixed in with the curio carts are some buggies selling pastries and sweets that make the entire bazaar smell heavenly. My stomach growls in protest as we pass one filled with a variety of meat pies. I call up ahead to my brother, "Maybe we should get some dinner, Elliot."

"There should be some hotels in a few blocks. We need to get a room first." Elliot answers. He looks back at the cart, smells the beckoning aroma of meat and pastry, and gives in. "But I guess we can get a few pies to eat on the way." That's one thing about Elliot that definitely hasn't changed: his stomach.

After studying the menu board for a minute I order three pies from the merchant, each one with a different type of meaty filling.

"That'll be three silver bills." The merchant hands me the pies wrapped in wax paper.

I dig around in my pocket and pull out some coins. "Do you accept Northern Territory money?"

The man bites his lip and looks over at Sabella and Elliot and the bags they have around them. "I really shouldn't. City policy, you know. But I will this time, since you're just kids and all. You better get that traded for Royal currency soon, Miss."

"Thank you," I hand him what I think is the equivalent of three silver bills. I learned this kind of stuff during my schooling days, but that's been three years ago. It's hard to remember stuff like exchange rates when you're not being tested over them anymore. "We're new to the city. Where is the closest bank?"

"The Financial District is on the other side of town, but all the banks are closed for the night. You'll have to take the trolley from here. First one leaves tomorrow morning at seven from that stop over there." He points across the street to a blue sign that reads _Trolley Stop: Emporium Way. _

"Thank you, sir." I smile at the man and rejoin my brother and sister.

"I hope this won't be a problem at the hotel." Elliot says after I explain our need to exchange our money. He grabs his and Sabella's bags and we set off towards the Hotel District again.

I give them their pies. "That nice man was good enough to take our money, I'm sure the hotel keepers will be just as understanding." I grin at my brother, "See? Not all of the Royalists are _selfish and cruel_."

"I hope you're right or we'll be sleeping under the stars tonight," he mutters around a mouthful of pie.

By time we reach the Hotel District we've finished our pies. We stop at the first hotel that looks both cheap and clean, which isn't too difficult a combination to find. The keeper is an old woman with a head full of silver hair and a face full of wrinkles. She's hesitant to accept our foreign currency until Elliot suggests she hold it as collateral until we can pay her in Royal currency the next day. She finally agrees and hands us two keys along with three towels and a large empty jug. The second key, she explains, is for the communal washroom and the jug is to transport water back to our room if we want.

I've only stayed in a hotel a couple times before – once during our birthday in the White Mountains and once when Mom and I had left town to attend Gran's funeral – but I can't remember either one of them having a public washroom. Royal City is proving to be more different than I expected.

We find our room on the top floor, which is up three flights of stairs. It's nice and clean and smells like freshly pressed linen. It only has two beds, but they're decent size, allowing Sabella and me to share one comfortably. There's a small table with two chairs under the only window in the room and a long dresser and huge mirror take up the wall across from the beds.

"This isn't so bad, is it?" I smile up at my brother. "What do you think?"

Elliot shrugs, "It's ok, I guess. Could be worse. At least it's clean."

I drop my bag on the closest bed and cross the room, "I bet we have a great view." I pull the curtains aside to reveal a small window. The view consists mostly of the neighboring building, but just visible past the edge of the building is a a huge manor with tall spires that light up the horizon. "Look Bells! You can see the Royal Estate!"

We must be a mile or so from the outermost gates of the Capital Rings, where all the most important citizens of Royal City live. From there it's about another half mile to the estate. Even from so far away, it's an impressive sight.

Sabella climbs up in one of the chairs next to me, "Wow, what is that?" Her face is flushed, which tells me she's exhausted.

"The Royal Estate. Remember, from school? It's where the Royal Family lives."

I go back to Elliot, grab his map, and open it on the table in front Sabella. "See this circle here?" I point to the center of the bullseye.

"That's were the Royal Estate is!" Sabella answers eagerly. She's theatrical and sometimes over dramatic, but my little sister is smart and way more intuitive than I was at her age.

I point back out the window, "You can't see it from here, Bells, but there is a big wall that circles that entire building."

She scrunches up her face in thought. "Why?"

"To protect the Royal Family." I look back at the map. "And these..." I point to the three rings that circled the estate. "...are the borders of the Capital Rings. That's where my appointment is tomorrow."

I hear Elliot shut the door behind us and collapse into the mattress of the other bed. "It's also where all the conspiring takes place," he grumbles.

"That's not true, Ellie." Sabella snaps. "My teacher said that the Royal Family is in charge of everyone. She said that they make the rules."

"And they have to make sure people follow the rules, too." Elliot answers.

"But, who put them in charge?"

I chuckle, "What do you mean? They're the Royal Family."

Elliot grabs _The King's Carnival _from Sabella's bag and holds it up. "It's like the king and queen from the book, Sabella. If they were lucky enough to be born into the family, they get to make all the rules."

Sabella thinks about that, her little eyebrows pulled down low, and then begins to open her mouth. I interrupt before she can ask another question. "Come on, Bells." I pull the curtain closed again and guide Sabella towards our bags. "That's enough history lessons for tonight. We all have big days tomorrow."

One by one we make our way to the washroom to bathe and prepare for bed. Sabella is the first to clean up and by the time Elliot, who is last, makes it back to the room she's fast asleep. Elliot doesn't waste anytime either and before I've even turned out all the lights he's already snoring. It's been a long day and I understand why the two of them are so tired.

However, I have a difficult time keeping my mind quiet long enough to succumb to my own heavy eyelids. So much has changed in the last few days. It's both exciting and terrifying at the same time. I can't help but be nervous about my meeting with the Counsel in just a few hours. I'm not even totally sure where I'm supposed to go. Maybe I can ask the keeper at the front desk in the morning.

After an hour or so of worrying, I fall into a fitful sleep where I dream that I'm stuck on a train racing towards a cliff. I try and try to stop the train, but everything I do just makes it go faster. Then, just before it plunges over the cliff and into the abyss, it comes to a screeching halt.

I wake up very early the next morning, with no hope of falling back asleep. The pale light from the sheer curtains tells me the sun is just starting to rise. Sabella and Elliot are still sound asleep and probably will be for at least another hour.

Carefully, I creep out from under the sheets without waking my sister. I dress in what I determine are my most dignified-looking clothes: a dark green blouse that my mother always said complements my eyes and my best pair of black leggings (the only ones I own anymore that aren't faded and tattered). The only shoes I have are my boots that are much more suited to the cooler climate of Northern Territory. But once I remove the fur lining in them, they don't look as out of place. I slip on the light brown jacket that I got for my fourteenth birthday. It fits tighter now than it did then, but it's the only jacket I brought with me. Most of my wardrobe I left behind. I knew the warmer climate in Royal City wouldn't warrant the thick clothing and layers that Northern Territory had. Another part of home that I'll miss. The smell of the soft leather reminds me of winter as I pull my hair into a loose braid and head for the door with the intent to find breakfast.

On my way to the front door of the hotel I pass the front desk where the keeper from the previous night is sorting through a stack of paper. I greet her, "Good morning."

The keeper looks up, startled. "Oh. Miss Carey. I'm glad you are up so early. I have a note for you."

"A note?" I approach the desk warily. "From who?"

The keeper doesn't answer, instead she turns her back to a separate stack of papers and begins quickly rustling through them. She jumps when the edge of one crosses her finger and cuts a shallow nick in the skin. When she turns back around her finger is in her mouth and she is holding a small folded up piece of paper out to me. "It came last night shortly after you and you brother checked in."

I examine the note with my name written across the paper in what is now familiar handwriting. I am sure it is from the Counsel. The hotel keeper seems to know, too.

_**Elena Carey,**_

_**Welcome to Royal City. A taxi will pick you up an hour after sunrise at this location to escort you to Counsel Hall. Do not be late.**_

"It's best to be early, dear. The Counsel frowns upon tardiness"

I look up at the old woman, surprised.

She smiles sadly, "You and your brother and sister are not the first recruits of the Counsel to stay at my inn. You are Gifted, are you not?"

I ponder the woman for a moment before answering. In Northern Territory it was paramount not to advertise myself as Gifted, in case Talent Seekers were watching. My life for the last eight years – since my Mom realized I had a Gift – has been spent hiding what I am from the world. That tactic seems a little pointless now, considering I've already been found. Finally, I nod, "Yes ma'am. How did you know?" It feels somewhat liberating to share with this woman what I am.

"Please, call me Ida. I grew up in this hotel and when my father died thirty years ago my son and I started running it. I've seen dozens of Gifteds, just like you. It's not always so easy to tell, but with you I could sense it the second you walked in the door." Ida pauses, smiling knowingly. The skin around her blue eyes crinkles, reminding me of Gran. "Whatever your Gift is, you must be very good at it."

Elliot has often accused me of being too trusting and open with people. Dad used to tell him that I just see the good in people that not everyone else can see. I don't really know if that's true or not, but I find it easy to like and trust Ida. Ida, with her soft blue eyes and warm smile. "I can show you." I motion to Ida's injured finger, "May I see your hand?"

Ida must possess the same trusting nature. She nods and holds out her hand. I lay it between my own and look into her eyes. I stare deeply, past the blue orbs, looking for an entry to read the energy in Ida's body. I find it and focus on redirecting that life source, using my hands to pull and guide it to Ida's hand. I can feel it heating up as the blood flow increases there and after only a couple seconds the cut disappears. I look deeper and see inflamed joints in Ida's fingers. I redirect the energy flow to each swollen knuckle. After a few more seconds I release Ida's hand, allowing the energy to dissipate into the rest of her body. I look up at my new friend hesitantly.

"You are a Healer." The woman looks surprised for the first time during our short conversation. She looks at her hand briefly before meeting my eyes again. "Healing abilities are very rare."

"I know, I've never met another one." I answer softly.

"I've met many Gifteds over my lifetime, but only a handful of them have been Healers." She inspects the skin on her finger closely and then she flexes her wrinkled hand several times. "Thank you, dear. You are very good, how'd you know that I have arthritis in that hand?"

"I can read the energy in your body." I know I shouldn't make a habit of offering to Heal strangers – Elliot would loose his mind if he knew what I just did – but I'm happy to have made a friend. "I can do more if you'd like."

Arthritis isn't the only affliction that I read in the old woman's frail body. Like most elderly people I've Healed, Ida's body is full of failing organs and painful joints.

"No dear," Ida shakes her head, "I wouldn't know what to do without my aches and pains. But thank you for Healing the arthritis in my hand, it will be much easier to do all the needed bookkeeping."

"I understand," I answer. "My grandmother used to tell me the same thing."

"Your grandmother is a very wise woman."

I sigh at the memory of Gran. "She passed away five years ago."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that." Ida smiles at me and then gestures to my note. "You should get some breakfast, Dear, before they pick you up. There is a small market two blocks to the east of here."

She points me in the direction of the market. I thank her and head in that direction. Surprisingly, I find the market without any trouble, but it's not quite as easy to find a vendor that's willing to take my foreign money. Finally one young man obliges. I buy enough fruits and pastries at his stall for me and my siblings. The young man packs them into a small basket and I head back for the hotel. By the time I make it back to the room Elliot and Sabella are up and dressed.

We eat breakfast at the table, with the window open to let in the breeze, while Elliot looks through the directory and compares it to our map. "Looks like the closest registrar doesn't open for another couple hours. That should give us time to go by the Financial District first before I get Sabella registered for school. I'll exchange the rest of our money for Royal currency."

I glance at the clock on the bedside table. "The trolleys should be running by now. And I guess I need to get moving, too."

I kiss Sabella on the top of her head, "Have fun today. I want to hear all about your first day in the big city when we all get back tonight."

"Bye Elena," Sabella answers distractedly as she flips through _The King's Carnival_ for what must be the fifth time since we left the train. Presently it's opened to a picture of the prince skipping stones across the pond outside of the kingdom. I've never liked the prince in that book very much, he's always sulking and feeling sorry for himself. In the pond scene, he's pouting that the King's not paying him enough attention while he plans the carnival. When we read that scene with Dad, he would act out the Prince's frustrations and make us laugh.

I shake myself of my reveries and grab my bag. "You keep the room key, Elliot. If I get back before you do, I'll just ask the lady at the front desk to let me in."

"Good luck at your appointment, Elena!"

"Thanks, Bells."

Elliot pats me on the back as I head out the door, "Yeah good luck, Sis. Knock 'em dead..." He grins and winks at me in typical Elliot-fashion, "Then maybe we could all go home."

I'm glad to see a piece of the old-Elliot. The Before Elliot. I smack him on the arm and he playfully grabs at where I hit it, acting wounded.

"It'll be fine. Have fun today!" I call after him as I shut the door behind me.

When I make it back to the front lobby, Ida has been replaced by a tall thin man with greying side burns and bushy eyebrows. His blue eyes are an exact match to Ida's. I smile at him when I pass, but he's too busy checking in a new group of guests to notice me.

Outside the hotel the streets are busy with people bustling about in all different directions. In the thirty or so minutes since I've returned from the market the city has woken up. It's a completely different picture from the sleepy city that greeted us last night.

The sidewalks are packed with people, all somehow moving about without colliding into each other. Everyone is dressed similarly in loose-fitting clothing in dark earth-tone colors. I'm glad to see that I don't stand out among them as much as I feared I would. In fact, no one hardly seems to notice the tan brunette standing awkwardly outside a hotel, not sure where to go or what to do.

If I weren't waiting on a taxi, I'd head towards the trolley. If I were in Northern Territory, I'd walked or ride Dahlia, my horse. In Royal City, all I have to do is wait and watch the activity around me. It's all rather exotic and fascinating. A mixture of new and old technology, like the world is on the cusp of something new and exciting that hasn't really taken total effect yet.

Motorized vehicles are a luxury that I haven't had much experience with yet. The streets outside of the hotel carry several small black motorcycles that wander around the few people that dare the light traffic instead of walking on the sidewalk. I see two motor cars, and I stare openly at them as they pass.

I'm in middle of contemplating the mechanics of cars and who in the city is wealthy enough to own them, when a black taxi with dark windows pulls up in front of me. On the side of the cab is a large graphic letter "C" with three concentric circles around it: the sign of the Counsel.

Suddenly my heart begins to flutter nervously. I take a deep reassuring breath. "Calm down Elena. You can do this."

The back door nearest me opens and a man dressed in a black suit looks at me expectantly from the shadows of the cab. He has a hard mouth and narrow eyes.

"Elena Carey, we are here to escort you to Counsel Hall." The man's voice is rough and gritty, as though it doesn't get much use.

I take another calming breath before answering in a quiet shaky voice. "Thank you."

I get in, shut the door behind me, and immediately we're taking off down the street. I've never been in a car before and the unexpected sensation of movement makes my stomach lurch. I swallow and the nausea subsides. The black interior of the taxi is spacious, but somehow I manage to feel suffocated. Much like I felt on the train. The three men accompanying me make no attempt at conversation. The man who opened the door for me sits just to my left, his eyes staring fixedly ahead. I wonder if his face would crack if he smiled.

After a few minutes, the butterflies in my stomach calm down and my mind starts filling with questions.

"Do you work for the Counsel?"

No answer. The man beside me grunts slightly and I take that as a yes.

"Are we going to the Capital Rings? Isn't that where the Counsel is?"

Again, my questions are met with silence. I narrow my eyes at the back of the head of the man in front of me.

Deciding that my entourage will offer me no answers, I occupy myself by staring out my window at the city passing by. We've left the Shopping and Hotel Districts behind quickly and are now in what I assume is the Business District. The men and women who occupy the sidewalks in this district are all dressed in varying shades of gray and black suits with matching briefcases and well-groomed hair. The closer we get to the Capital Rings the bigger the buildings get.

After a few minutes we approach a tall gate that stands in the outermost wall of the first Capital Ring. Four men dressed in black suits with gold buttons attend the gate. They look like they belong to the military. I think back to my school days and decide they must be Royal Guards.

The taxi stops and one of the guards approaches our vehicle. The man sitting in front of me opens his window. "Elena Carey to see the Counsel."

The guard peers past the man and scrutinizes me. I feel my face getting red and my heart rate speeding up again. I swallow my anxiety and do my best to smile at the guard, "Hello."

The man narrows his eyes at me with a stony expression before glancing at a clipboard he holds in his hand. "You're clear to enter."

The cab lurches forward again as the gates slowly open. We go through two more gates identical to the first before reaching our destination. The whole ride lasts only fifteen minutes but it feels like much longer.

The taxi stops and I'm eager to get out of it. I quickly open my door to find myself standing in front of a one story stone building with white marble archways and columns. Decorative gargoyles sit at the top of each column, each one with a different menacing face.

The architecture is intricate and somewhat beautiful, but the building is much smaller than I was anticipating. From what I've learned about the Counsel in school, I was sure they would have a much bigger space to conduct all the business they do serving the Royal Family.

The three men get out of the taxi and start towards the entry. I follow them. The entrance is behind the two middle columns and under an archway that reads _Counsel Hall _and under that _The_ _Honor to Serve. _On either side of the heavy metal doors stand two stone statues of soldiers, one drawing a bow and arrow and the other with a sword high above its head, each ready to strike. On the floor in front of the doors is the same emblem from the door of the taxi: a letter "C" with three concentric circles around it. Around the outermost circle are the words _Service, Guidance, _and _Protection. _These are the three cornerstones of the Counsel and represent the Counsel's obligations to the Royal Family.

The three men position themselves around the emblem so that they are each on a different word. Then they pull keys out of their shirts from a chain around their neck and insert them into hidden locks on the emblem. They turn their keys at the same time and the metal doors in front of them swing open slowly.

I have never seen anything like it.

We walk into a large foyer with shiny black floors and approach a great circular desk that stands in the middle of the empty room. Behind it sits a woman with pale skin and long fiery red hair. When we got close enough I can read that the nameplate on the front of the desk says her name is Quinn.

"Elena Carey to see the Counsel."

Quinn looks through a set of papers behind her desk, "Elena Carey, Healer from Northern Territory, candidate for admission as a Royal Healer."

She looks over the desk at me expectantly. I take this to mean that I am supposed to say something. "Um, yes ma'am. I got here as soon as I could. It was a long train ride."

"Best not to speak unless necessary." Quinn peers at me as she flips through her papers again. I think I see her wink slightly and I find myself smiling. I like Quinn.

"Thank you."

Quinn consults her papers one last time before addressing my three escorts. "They want her in the Healer's room on the third level."

I'm not sure how I should go about finding the third level of a building that's only one story, but my question is soon answered when I'm escorted to a bank of elevators. We board the first one that arrives. One of the men punches the number three, the doors close and we start heading _down_. There are buttons counting down to level six, along with other buttons that are labeled in some kind of code. I'm amazed at the number of levels that are hidden beneath this suddenly small building. Counsel Hall must be the biggest underground building in the world.

After a short ride, the elevator doors open to a long wide hallway. More shiny black tiles make up the floor on this level and the bright red doors that line either side of the hallway stand out against pale grey walls. None of the doors are marked and I'm unsure how my escorts know where to take me. Nevertheless, we head straight for a door to the right about halfway down the hall. It opens when we approach and the men step aside, allowing me to enter first.

The room behind the door is much larger than I expected it to be. In stark contrast to the dark corridor, it's very bright and everything is white. The sterility and coldness of it sends a chill up my spine. The walls are lined with floor-to-ceiling cabinets with glass fronts that display a variety of foreign instruments and tools. In the middle of the ceiling are three large circular lights on roller tracks that are all focused on a raised platform. On the opposite side of the room, directly in front of the raised platform, is a tall crescent-shaped desk, behind which sit thirteen figures dressed in white robes. The Counsel.

My already elevated heart rate rises to new levels. I can feel tiny beads of sweat forming on my palms and the back of my neck as I will my hands not to shake. _Don't be nervous_, I tell myself sternly. _ You just have to Heal. You've done it a million times before._

"Elena Carey, approach the platform."

The Counsel member sitting in the middle points to the platform where he wants me to stand, right in front of the Counsel. I turn back to my three escorts, curious if they'll be following me into the cold sterile room, but the space where they were standing only seconds ago is vacant. I take a deep breath, turn back to the platform and walk.

As I get closer, I can make out the faces of the people sitting behind the counter. I count eight men and five women. The man who spoke I know to be President Cane, leader of the Counsel. I've seen his face in textbooks when I was in school. His angled jaw, sleek white hair, and impossibly blue eyes are easy to recognize.

As I stop in the middle of the platform, he turns his icy blue gaze on me, "Elena Carey, welcome to Counsel Hall. I trust you and your brother and sister had no trouble getting to the city."

"No, s-"

"Very good."

His eyes remain fixed on me as a female sitting to the left of him addresses me. "You are here as a candidate for admission to the Royal Healers. Do you deny that you are Gifted?"

"N-No ma'am." My voice sounds shaky and subdued. I clear her throat, take a deep breath and try again. "No ma'am. I do not."

"The Talent Seekers have identified you as a Healer." The woman continues, her sharp green eyes peering at me over rimmed glasses. "They say you are... quite talented."

I remain silent, remembering Quinn's warning to not speak unless absolutely necessary.

A tall muscular man sitting next to President Cane clears his throat. "How old are you, child?"

"Sixteen, sir."

The man grunts and scratches a note on a clipboard in front of him. Without looking up he continues, "It took you some time to arrive to us, Miss Carey. You traveled here from the Northern Territory."

I'm not sure if this is a question or not. My nervous eyes dart around the thirteen expectant faces all focused down on me. I suddenly feel very small. "Um, yes, sir. I-I got my letter four days ago. I left as soon as I could, but it's a two day train ride and I, uh, didn't get into Royal City until last night."

"We know. You checked into the Hotel District last night at nine minutes before eight o'clock." The man's hard gray stare shifts from his clipboard to me and back to the clipboard again. His pen scratches loudly as he makes his notes.

I shouldn't be surprised that the Counsel knows when and where I checked in during my first night in Royal City. It's still unnerving to hear.

"Counselman Calvin is right." Another Counsel member addresses me from my left, "How have you managed to stay out of our sight for so long?"

I turned to the man who addressed me. His large round face and beady black eyes are fixed on me intently. I never thought that I might be punished for staying hidden from the Talent Seekers for so long. "Sir, I was unaware that the Royal Family needed my services. I only..."

"We all serve the Royal Family, Miss Carey." The man speaks suddenly with a deep angry voice, startling me. "It is our duty. Do you think that you are an exception?"

"N-No sir." I hurriedly reply. I am sure my heart can not physically beat any faster than it already is, yet it quickens in the deafening silence that follows.

Finally President Cane speaks, his gaze never leaving me. "Elena Carey is not here to stand Trial, Baird. The Counsel is already aware of Aaron Carey's efforts to conceal his daughter's Gift from us and that indiscretion is being... dealt with."

My racing heart rises to my throat at the mention of my father and I try not to squirm under Cane's fierce scrutiny.

Baird crosses his arms and glares. Calvin, along with the ten other Counsel members turn their attention to their notepads again, scratching out more notes. Not President Cane, his eyes remained fixed on me.

"You are here today for a reason." Cane's voice softens, but his face remains cold and unmoving. "Why don't you show us what you can do."

He lifts his right hand towards a door to my right. I turn to watch as the door opens and a man appears pushing a wheelchair. The man sitting in the chair has a large bandage wrapped around his leg just above his right knee. He cringes as the chair bumps over the threshold of the door.

Silently, he's wheeled up the ramp and to me in the middle of the platform. The man pushing the chair makes no signs of emotion. His cargo, however, looks terrified. I try to reassure him with my eyes as I kneel down in front of him. "It's ok. I'm here to help you."

The man's expression doesn't relax. I make slow deliberate movements, remembering my mother's teachings. I let him know what I am doing before I do it. "I'm going to unwrap your leg. I won't hurt you."

He nods slightly and I proceed to remove his bandage, revealing a long deep gash just above his knee. He winces as I place my hands over the ugly laceration. I smile at him softly, "Just try to relax, this will only take a second."

I stare into and then past his eyes, looking for the spot to read his body's energy. I find it and pull the energy towards my hands to the injured flesh. It quickly knits back together the severed tissue and after a few seconds I release it back to the rest of his body.

The man finally relaxes into his chair as I refocus on the bright white room. The gash is barely visible as a thin white scar across his leg. I move to get up, but the man quickly grabs my hand between his own. "Thank you, angel," he whispers hoarsely.

Before I can reply he's being pushed back out the door.

"Not bad, Miss Carey." President Cane commends me as he motions towards the door again.

Quickly, another patient is being wheeled towards the platform, this time on a gurney.

The morning proceeds in this way for over an hour, each new injury worse than the last. Some are internal illness or injury, some are external, and some are a combination of both. Cane gives me no more than a minute between Healings. In the beginning I move out of urgency and need, with the desire to help my patients as my driving force. After about the twentieth Healing my work begins to wear on my own energy and I begin to move out of necessity. After each Healing, the man usually grabs at my hands, feeling the source that brought him life again, and whispers his thanks. More than once I am deemed an angel or a spirit.

Finally, after what seems like hours, President Cane doesn't gesture towards the door again. The last man I worked on was very ill. He was unconscious when he was rolled in on his metal gurney. I read his energy the best I could without seeing his eyes. Even without that definite pathway I could easily see that the man was beyond Healing. I did what I could for his pain and then shook my head softly, "There's no more I can do for him."

The man was wheeled back out the door and I looked to Cane, expecting him to be signaling my next patient. I find myself intensely relieved when he doesn't. My eyes are so heavy, I find it hard to focus on my surroundings. I've never pushed myself this far when Healing – never _had_ to – and it's amazing how drained and useless I suddenly feel. It's all I can do to continue standing as the Counsel debates amongst themselves for several minutes in hushed voices. I am too tired to attempt eavesdropping. All I want to do is lay down and close my eyes, but I somehow manage to stay upright.

Finally, President Cane returns his cold gaze on me.

"Well done, Miss Carey." He reaches for a pen in his robe and signs a piece of paper that I can't see well enough to read. He hands the signed paper to the woman sitting next to him with the green eyes. "Evelyn, read our new Healer her oath."

A loud thud startles me into brief clarity as Evelyn stamps the paper with the Counsel's seal. She looks up at me with a calculated menacing stare. "Elena Carey, you will hereby be sworn in as a Royal Healer. Your obligations as a Royal Healer are at the discretion of the Counsel. Your duty is to the Royal Family and those that serve the Royal Family. Use of your Gift to contradict this duty is strictly forbidden and is punishable... by death."

I barely hear the last part of the oath as I struggle to remain upright. My energy is waning fast and I wonder how I'll ever get out of the room under my own power.

"Do you accept and understand these terms?"

The white and sterile room begins to dim as I look at the Counsel with fading tunnel vision. As darkness envelopes me I reply with my last ounce of energy, "Yes. I do."


	3. 2 Danny

**_2. Danny_**

"Everything will be different after you become an Elitist, kid."

"You mean if I become an Elitist," I take long a drink from my glass, emptying its contents before Dagher quickly tops off both glasses. "What happens if I fail, Uncle? The letter doesn't say."

"It doesn't matter, you won't fail." Dagher replies simply.

I hesitate. I've always tried so hard not to ask this question before, but the alcohol is giving me just enough nerve to finally ask. "Can you tell me? About the Test? Can you at least give me a hint?" I divert my eyes to my drink, my fingers running circles across the rim of my glass. "What happens after the Test? It would be nice to know what I was fighting for."

"Don't say such things, Dan." Dagher drops his voice to a harsh whisper. "You fight for the Royal Family, remember?"

I nod gravely, "I know. You're right, Uncle." I take another long drink from my glass. The warmth in my stomach is slowly making its way down my limbs. With any luck it might numb the nervous knots in my gut.

My uncle lets out a long sigh. "Look kid, It's... complicated." He pauses before continuing, looking around the small kitchen as if ensuring our privacy. "Tell me what you've learned in your studies about the Elitists."

That's an easy question to answer. Mainly because what I've been taught is so little. I've spent a lot of wakeful nights recounting the information in my head. I recite my answer, just as I have in Master Jordan's class many times before. "The Elitists are a group of soldiers that devote their life to the protection of the Royal Family and the throne. The first group of Elitists was formed over 100 years ago after the Great War. Since then there have been sixty two Elitist Soldiers. Each year Apprentices are chosen to stand before the Counsel, where they are administered a Test. To pass is to become an Elitist." I look at my uncle, "That's all I know."

"And for now, that's all you need to know." Dagher answers.

The alcohol helps me sleep that night, but not without dreams...

_I'm falling... falling down a dark deep chasm that has no end. Around me voices call out to me. Voices that I recognize: Dagher, Aari, Master Doran, Althea... _

"_Elitist Arrows!" they all call. "Elitist Arrows!" _

_They're cheering me on. Encouraging me onward. I land on a pillar of white in a crouched position. Around me the room lights up and my encouragers are there, clapping and cheering. I stretch out my arms, close my eyes, and grin. _

"_Elitist Arrows!"_

_I open my eyes. My encouragers are gone and in their place: President Cane's face. It hovers in front of me. His blue eyes are cold and calculating. "An Elitist does not fail, Arrows!" _

I spend my first day as a Tester with these words going around in circles in my head. _An Elitist does not fail. _I try to get used to my new schedule. It's changed from the ordinary routine that structured every day of my life for the last twelve years. My legs are confused by the transition and they keep trying to take me along my usual course through the Apprentice's Grounds. Morning meditations and mid-morning lessons are replaced with intense one-on-one training with Master Doran.

When I arrive for my personal training, Master Doran greets me with a dagger hurtling through the air. I barely catch it, slicing my palm open on the blade, before Doran rounds on me with a series of punches and kicks. I dodge his attacks and then appear on the opposite side on the gym from where Doran stands.

"You are no longer an Apprentice, Arrows." Doran replies darkly. "You must start thinking like an Elitist if you hope to become one."

Our morning proceeds in this fashion, with me being pushed to the outer boundaries of my Gifts as my master delivers more cryptic messages. _An Elitist shows no hesitation and no mercy... Restraint is for the weak and timid, Arrows. An Elitist has time for neither... If you were really an Elitist, I would already be dead..._

By lunch time, I am limping, sore, out of breath, and my palm throbs where Doran's dagger drew blood. Before departing, Doran gives me a bow and I return the gesture. "You did well for your first day. Nourish your body now. You will be paired with Loch this afternoon in Gunnar's ring." With Doran's Gift to read the immediate future, I do not question this.

I'm not surprised to hear that Loch will be in the Tester's gym this afternoon. If any of the Apprentices are ready for the Elitists, it's Loch. I've always considered my time in the sparring ring with him as an opportunity to better my own abilities. Speed and perception are the keys to defeating Loch, if one has any hope of surviving his lethal punches and hits.

After lunch, however, I quickly discover that Loch had no trouble letting go of his own restraint during his morning session with Master Asher. Under Master Zane's watch, the Apprentices are taught to control their ability rather than unleash it full force. Gunnar, the Master assigned to the Testers for the next two weeks, takes a different approach. The consequences of this manifest into broken bones and bruises all over my body.

I knew Loch to be strong and precise, but I largely underestimated his Gift thus far. Loch is a specimen of a man, his body a finely tuned weapon that strikes with precision and deadly force. And he rarely misses. My Gift is the only thing keeping me from being beaten to a pulp.

The first few hours of the session, we're not allowed weapons. I find this a hinderance. I've had several opportunities to take down my opponent had I been allowed my bow. Finally, during the last hour of our time with Gunnar I get my wish. It's only a matter of minutes before Loch succumbs to my arrows.

Afterwards, Gunnar excuses us from the gym and sends us all to the Healers for treatment before meditations and supper.

I follow my fellow Testers towards the middle Capital Ring, where the Royal Healers await our arrival. Ahead of me, Loch, Fallon, and Lovelace keep a steady pace. I find myself struggling to keep up, which is an odd feeling. When it comes to speed of arrival I'm always at the front of the line, but not today. I seem to be the only one suffering from physical ailments. I have to hold my right arm to keep it from falling at an awkward angle and every step I take seems to reverberate throughout my entire body. I hurt everywhere. Even Loch isn't having trouble, despite the deep gash in his shoulder left by one of my arrows when I pinned him to the floor.

I take the opportunity to study the three carefully. To my knowledge we are, to date, the largest group of Testers up for induction since the Elitists were formed over a hundred years ago. Fallon is at the head of the group and has already taken the leadership role. Her eighteenth birthday was only a few weeks ago and I knew the Counsel wouldn't wait long to get their hands on her. She isn't a girl of many words, and at five foot three inches tall she's a full nine inches shorter than me. Her slight frame and short jet black hair aren't very intimidating either, but I know better.

Fallon has a Gift of getting into her competitor's mind and screwing with their perception of reality. She makes it very difficult to differentiate hallucinations from the real world. She's also a limited mindreader. While she's hanging out in her opponent's head planting images there, she picks up bits and pieces of their thoughts. Once she sets her sights on a you, there isn't much you you can do to avoid it. Like most Apprentices, she keeps mostly to herself and I don't know much about her.

The presence of Lovelace as a Tester is a little more difficult to swallow. It isn't that she's not threatening, or capable. Her ability to control the emotions of those around her is unique and she's very good at turning her opponents into her allies. She uses their own emotions to break down their defenses. She's impeccable at determining weaknesses. Fear, anger, jealousy... These are her usual tactics. But with me, she'd always taken a different approach. She confuses me by filling my head with feelings of longing and want in order to lure me in for a strike. She's also fierce with a sword.

All that aside, the aspect of her presence that unnerves me the most is her lack of control. It's usually her own emotions that she doesn't seem to have a handle on. She'll be calm and collected one minute, and the next she'll be enraged without any warning. Her lack of control earned her an extra two years of apprenticeship after her eighteenth birthday.

Finally, we arrive at the Healer's Quarters and I'm glad for it. My muscles are already aching and begging for relief. Once inside, I go straight to my assigned room, collapse into its waiting bed, and await Healer Althea's curative hands. I've known Althea for as long as I can remember. She's always been assigned as the primary Healer to the Apprentices and Testers.

After several minutes, she joins me in the room. "So the rumors are true." She lays her eyes on me and sighs. "As I knew they would be. The Prodigy is finally a Tester." She uses the nickname that she assigned to me years earlier.

"Althea." I simply nod in greeting before laying back into the small bed again with some degree of difficulty. I like Althea. She's always been able to put me at ease.

"Your uncle must be very proud." Althea wets her hands in a basin of water at the foot of the bed and sets to work on my most prominent bruises. "You've dislocated your shoulder again." She frowns and rests her hands against the swollen appendage.

I wince at the contact and immediately relax as the shoulder rights itself. "I suppose he is. It's hard to tell."

"You will never learn," she murmurs as she Heals the cut Doran's dagger left across my palm. Her hands then move to my chest, my cracked ribs protesting at her touch before mending together. "Dagher is always proud of you, dear." She answers softly. "We all are."

"Why?" I grimace as her hands continue to find the sorest parts of my body. "I'm obviously not ready for this. I barely made it out of the ring on my own two feet today."

"But you did make it out." She points out. "And judging from the gash I just mended on Loch's arm, you managed to win at least one round. The Counsel did right choosing you."

I think back to my time in the ring, being thrown around and beaten like a small doll. My jaw tingles as Althea works her magic into the bruise were Loch's fist landed only hours ago.

"Why do you think I started calling you Prodigy?"

I shrug, suddenly too comfortable and tired to answer.

"The first time you came into my Healing rooms, you were only a small child. Do you remember?"

I think back. I do remember. I was seven years old and had just competed for the first time in the sparring rings. My opponent was a much older Apprentice by the name of Wayne. Wayne's Gift was control of the wind and he attacked me with ruthless gusts that carried all sorts of shrapnel and weapons at me. The winds came from all around me, gust after gust, and my Gift was the only thing that got me out the ring alive. In the end, one of Wayne's own weapons took him down when I got too close to him during an attack.

"Wayne beat himself with his own lack of self control. I was lucky."

Althea rewets her hands in the basin before answering. "I'd never heard of the Masters putting an Apprentice in the ring as young as you were. You came to me bloody and bruised. You were so small and so tired that you could barely stay conscious, but before I could Heal you, you asked me a question. Do you remember what it was?"

I think only a second before answering. "I asked you to Heal Wayne first."

Althea smiles and sits back on her heals, her amber eyes meeting mine. "You did. You wouldn't let me touch you until you were convinced that Wayne had been taken care of first. I've been a Royal Healer for many many years, and you are the only Apprentice I have ever known to show any sign of real self sacrifice and compassion. It goes against everything the Masters teach you, but you were different. You _are_ different, Prodigy."

I think about Althea's words as she resumes the Healing session in silence, except for her humming. I don't really see how self-sacrifice will help me survive until Testing day. Despite my reservations, the tune Althea hums relaxes me. By the time the old Healer is finished, I feel like a new man. The bruises haven't disappeared completely, but they are a light shadow compared to what they would be and I no longer feel sore.

"You are a survivor, dear," Althea speaks softly. I feel my energy returning as I always do after a Healing. Me body feels anew and I sit up as Althea stands back from me. "Don't ever forget that. You should rest tonight. You will need your energy in the coming weeks."

"Thank you, Althea."

She smiles at me. "You may stay here and rest for a while. I will come and get you when it's time for your meditations with Master Abbott."

She doesn't give me a chance to respond before she walks out the door and closes it softly behind her. Despite my renewed energy and body, I greet the stillness of the room. I sit quietly, close my eyes, and release a long even breath. My first day as a Tester has surprised me. I wasn't expecting it to be that much different from my years as a Apprentice. However, it's becoming appallingly clear that I have to get much stronger if I have any hope of making it to Testing day.

Then, suddenly I feel a strange tugging sensation. It's faint and may have gone unnoticed had I not just had my rejuvenating session with Althea, but it is enough to warrant investigation. I open my eyes and my attention is immediately drawn to the door. I open it and poke my head in to the hallway outside. It's empty and I focus my energy into hearing past the walls around me. In the three closest rooms I can hear my fellow Testers. Althea is with Lovelace, muttering incantations as she calms leftover hallucinations in Lovelace's mind.

I listen closer and hear muffled voices coming from my right. I leave my position in the doorway and creep toward the voices until I can hear them clearly. The closer I get to the voices the stronger the pulling sensation feels. I am still alone in the hallway when I hear two different men.

"The girl has just seen the Counsel."

"She stood before them as a Healer?"

"Yes."

"And she lost consciousness when?"

"After number thirty four."

"Oh. She is a strong one."

"She did well. President Cane has requested her presence when she is able."

"She will be one of us then." There is a pause before the man continues. "The girl needs to rest now. She may have an audience with the President tomorrow. She will stay here in the Healer's Quarters tonight."

"Very well, Galen. I will let the Counsel know."

The tugging sensation diminishes and then disappears as the voices fade further from where I can safely listen without detection. The girl, whoever she is, is obviously the Counsel's latest addition to the Royal Healers and is of no concern to me. Althea is the only Healer I have contact with. The other Healers are assigned to varying departments within the Capital Rings and beyond. I know Galen, one of the men I heard talking, to be the Head Healer, but I've never formally met the man. He is the official Healer to the Elitists.

I contemplate the strange feeling that led me to overhear Galen's conversation. I shrug it off as exhaustion and make my way out of the Healer's Quarters and on to the meditation rooms in the East Gardens.


	4. 3 Elena

3. Elena

I awake to a dull headache that tells me I've been asleep for a very long time. It throbs between my eyes and intensifies when I sit up to survey my surroundings. I feel a bit disoriented when the room around me finally comes into focus. It is small and dimly lit by two candles on either side of the only door. A stifling heat radiates from the floor and the air is thick with moisture. Beneath me is a small bed with white sheets that are damp with what I assume is my perspiration.

_How long have I been asleep?_ It's hard to tell. There are no windows in the room, so I'm not sure if it's day or night, and the sparse furnishings do not include a clock. I stretch my arms up over my head as the door opens.

"Elena, I am glad to see you awake."

I study the man that enters the room. His long blond hair is pulled into a low ponytail at the base of his neck. His skin is silky and pale, which contrasts sharply against his bright green eyes. He floats more than walks into the room. "I hope you slept well. Jason assured me that he didn't see any distress as he quieted your mind when you first arrived to us."

"You're... a Royal Healer." I make the statement aloud as the realization hits me. I'm not sure how I know this. I just... know.

The man smiles, which makes him look more wolfish than comforting. "Yes." He bows slightly. "I am Galen, Head Healer."

I am in utter awe. As I told Ida only hours earlier, I've never met another Healer. Now I am meeting one for the first time and I find myself at a loss for words. I stand up and bow deeply, which seems appropriate for the situation.

Galen's hand lands on my shoulder. His touch is feather light and cool in the warm room. "Please, rest Elena."

"It's such an honor to meet you, sir."

"And we are honored to welcome you here. But please, sit and rest. You must see President Cane in a few hours."

His force is gentle as he pushes me back down to the bed. "I... I don't understand. I just saw the Counsel."

Galen nods, "Yes. And your Gift impressed them all. I sent word that you needed to rest here for the night. You are to be inducted as a Royal Healer at sunrise, which is only an hour from now."

I gasp. "I've stayed here all night? How long was I asleep?"

"Several hours. Your body requires rest after using your energy like that for so long."

"My brother and sister! I was supposed to meet them back at the hotel, they must be worried sick!" I jump back up and start looking for my shoes. "I have to make sure they know I'm okay."

Galen's hand appears on my shoulder again. "It is alright. Your family is aware of your whereabouts. I sent a note to them at the inn. They will be expecting you at your new apartment later today."

"N-new apartment?" I grab at my head. My headache is throbbing behind my eyes again and threatening to blur my vision. "What do you mean?"

Galen leads me back to the bed again. "Please, Elena. You must rest. Your energy must have time to recenter itself. All will be explained in time."

I find no arguments for this. I suddenly feel very tired.

"I will send for Jason to quiet your mind again." Galen speaks softly, yet his words ring loudly in my throbbing head. "Please, rest."

The door shuts behind him and I close my eyes.

When I open them again, Galen has returned with a woman that looks only a few years older than me. I don't feel like I've slept long this time, but I know an hour must have passed. Surely Galen's presence means it's time for my audience with the Counsel again.

"Elena, this is Salvia. She is one of our Royal Healers assigned to the Royal Guard." Galen gestures to the woman. "She has brought you clothes for your induction and will show you where you can clean up."

"Elena, welcome to the Royal Healers!" she says excitedly.

I'm still processing her presence when Galen lays his hand on my shoulder, "I will see you after your induction."

I look up at him and nod, "Okay," and he turns to leave.

"It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?" Salvia asks softly after Galen has left. She is a slight woman, with thin arms and soft blond hair to her shoulders. Her mouth is wide and takes up much of her face, but not in a way that's unbecoming. Her smile is welcoming and warm and her blue eyes are friendly. I guess her to be in her early twenties.

I take a breath and answer, "Yes. A bit."

She takes a seat on the bed next to me with a neat pile of folded white clothing in her lap. "How do you feel?" she asks. "I remember when I presented to the Counsel. It was exhausting. Like I'd been drained."

"_Drained_ is a good way to describe it," I agree. I stretch my arms out in front of me. "I feel better now, though. After sleeping."

She nods. "It will keep getting better." She reaches down and hands me my boots that were under the bed. "It'll get easier. You'll see."

"I've just never had to Heal that many at a time before," I answer as I take my shoes from her. "Thank you."

"It's all part of the test," she explains. "They just want to see where your strengths and weaknesses are." She pauses and raises her eyebrows and grins at me, "Galen seemed very impressed with your results, Elena."

I don't really know what to say to that – I'm still feeling a little groggy – so I just shrug as I slip on my first boot.

"Where are you from, anyways? I've never heard an accent like yours before."

"Northern Territory."

"Wow," she breathes. "That must have been a long train ride." She nudges me in the ribs and narrows her eyes at me playfully. "Jason will be sorry to hear it. He's always bragging about being from Western State, _the farthest away than anyone else!" _She puts her hands on her hips and her imitation of a male voice makes me grins, "I can't wait to see the look on his face when I tell him."

I smile with her as I lace my boots. "Is that some kind of honor or something?"

"No," she laughs. "But listening to him you'd think it was. He just thinks he's all high and mighty because he's Galen's assistant."

I think about this. "Galen mentioned that Jason was the one who..." _How had he put it again? _"..._quieted_ my mind... when I first came here. What does that mean?"

"He specializes in Healing the mind. Something about re-centering your life force. He's really good at it. Better than the rest of us."

"How many of us are there?" I ask.

Salvia's face lights up. "Six now that we have you. The most the Royal Healers Royal City has ever had!"

Her answer disappoints me some. I was hoping, for some reason, there'd be more of us. That being a Healer wasn't as rare as I thought it was. Seems like it is. The whole world and there's only _six _Healers in Royal City? Seems impossible. "Where are you from?" I ask.

"From here, actually," she answers. "I've lived in Royal City my whole life. When my parents realized I was a Gifted they couldn't get me to the Counsel soon enough. I was inducted when I was ten."

This surprises me and I pause mid-lace and look to my fellow Healer with awe. _A Gifted that volunteered to be here? _After spending my entire life hiding my Gift and dreading being discovered by the Seekers, this prospect intrigues me. I find myself envying her.

"That must seem crazy, huh? I can't imagine what you had to leave behind to come here, Elena. But it'll be worth it. You'll learn a lot here." She smiles and her blue eyes sparkle. "Trust me."

I like Salvia. She reminds me of Sabella for some reason. She seems honest and friendly and the chance of making a friend who has the same Gift as me excites me. "Thanks, Salvia."

"Call me Sal. All my friends do. Now follow me," she motions and I follow her down the hall to a washroom. I feel well-rested and the headache from earlier is long gone. "There are showers in here. Wash up and get dressed. I promise you'll feel a lot better after a shower. At least I did when I was inducted."

The falling water of my shower does little to ease my mind, but it is refreshing and my head does feel somewhat clearer afterwards. I dress in the clothes that Salvia provided, which are made of white and gray linen. They are much different from the clothing I'm used to wearing in Northern Territory. Gone are my layers of warmth and protection, and in their place is a gauzy fabric that clings to areas of my body that I'd rather keep hidden. The white pants reach barely past my knees, leaving my ankles bare. My feet also feel bare in the sandals she gave me and I miss the comfort of my boots.

All in all, I feel rather exposed in the outfit, but I know I have no option. Salvia wears something very similar to it and Galen's robes match it as well. I accept the new clothing as inevitable.

"Are you ready, Elena?" Salvia asks, knocking on the door.

I think about that question and what it entails. _Am I ready? Ready to see the Counsel again? Ready to serve the Royal Family and its followers? Ready for my new life as a Royal Healer? _Images of Elliot and Sabella pass through my subconscious, followed closely by Mom and Dad. I push those images aside and open the door, "Yes, I'm ready."

Salvia smiles – does she _ever_ frown? - as I rejoin her in the hall. "Don't be nervous. All you have to do is recite an oath that they give you and get your Healer's pin." She motions to a brass pin on her shirt: a dove with a red "X" behind it. "You'll do great."

I nod and together we walk down the hall to a room where the thirteen members sat waiting, again.

Like Salvia said, the induction is easy. Afterwards, she shows me around the Healer's Quarters, introducing me to everyone we pass. She knows everyone's name and they all know hers. She's so friendly and her smile is infectious. Everyone we pass leaves with one.

We go to Galen's office where he tells me that Salvia will be my mentor for the next few weeks. I'm happy about that. When we leave there, she walks with me over to the building where my new apartment waits for me. On the way she tells me bits and pieces about the city. How it's been around for hundreds of years, but was born anew out of the ashes of the Great War as the Capital. How it's divided into seven different districts: Entertainment, Shopping, Financial, Business, Residential, Medical, and Trade. How it has more immigrants than all the other regions combined. I already know a lot of this from my schooling years, but I don't want to tell her that. She seems excited to share with me what she knows, so I let her.

"...the innermost Capital Ring is the Upper Ring." Salvia gestures wildly as she talks. I wonder if she'd be able to communicate at all if her hands were tied behind her back. "It's in the very middle of the city, where the Royal Estate and Counsel Hall are. The middle Capital Ring houses the Legal District where the Royal Courts are, along with the Healer's Quarters. And then the lowest Capital Ring houses the Law Enforcement District along with dozens of apartment buildings for the most important Royalists in the city."

I guess I'm a part of that group now, because that's where the apartment is that Salvia takes me to.

"Where have you been?"

We've barely made it in the door of my new apartment before my brother pounces on me. I hear Salvia's sharp intake of breath behind me. Obviously, she doesn't have an overprotective brother, or she'd have been expecting the confrontation as I was.

"You know where I've been," I answer tiredly.

"I know you've been with the Counsel," he retorts. "What did they do to you? Why were you gone so long? And who is this?"

"Please, Elliot, calm down. I'm fine. I just needed to rest at the Healer's Quarters after my meeting with the Counsel. This is Salvia. She's a Royal Healer." I pause before meeting Elliot's eyes, "She's my new mentor."

"So you did it? You're one of them now?"

Elliot's protectiveness grows exponentially every day after that. His nagging about my new schedule and work environment are irritating, at best, and his unending questions leave me tired and overwhelmed most times.

Our new apartment doesn't prove to be much of a refuge after my long days at the Healer's Quarters. It has, however, been an unexpected blessing to not have to worry about finding a place to live. Similar to the room I woke up in at the Healer's Quarters, the apartment is sparsely furnished and rather cramped. However, it does have a nice little balcony off of the living room where I enjoy sitting in the evenings with my sketch pad, letting my mind and pencil wander simultaneously. The apartment has only one bedroom, which Sabella and I share while Elliot sleeps on the couch. As it turns out, all the Royal Healers get their own apartment in the Capital Ring. And Salvia's is right across the hall from mine.

We get closer over the next several days. The day she meets Sabella, I can tell they'll get along instantly. They're both a bit theatrical and animated. Sabella invites her over almost every night for dinner and card games. They make goofy faces at each other during the game and Elliot just scowls at them, rolling his eyes and making rude comments.

Salvia somehow manages to make Royal City seem like a home for me in a short amount of time. But I worry, as usual, about Elliot and how's he adjusting to the city. I can hear him all hours of the night, rustling through newspapers and muttering to himself. He spends his days responding to job postings and looking for employment while Sabella's in school. I know it won't take him long to find something, but I hope it happens soon. Maybe once he feels like he has a purpose here, it'll feel more like home. Like it does for me.


	5. 4 Danny

4. Danny

"Arrows, if you insist on staring," Lovelace suddenly replies, keeping her attention on the ring and startling me from my thoughts, "then I suggest you make notes."

It's day five of being a Tester and Lovelace and I are sitting in the stands of the Tester's Gym, watching Loch and Fallon spar in front of us. Presently, Gunnar is instructing Loch on how to combat Fallon's mind attacks more effectively.

"I wasn't staring," I reply. "I was thinking."

She doesn't turn towards me but I see her cock an eyebrow. "_Thinking_?"

I've been paired with Loch during sparring lessons the last four days. Today Lovelace is to be my sparring mate. I'm immensely glad for this. Althea must be getting tired of mending my broken bones and bruised flesh. Loch hasn't had any problems releasing his Gift on me full force during our sessions. Gunnar and Doran have been constantly berating me to follow Loch's lead and "let go of my restraint". I don't know what my Masters are talking about. I've never been so fast or focused.

"...About how you've been holding up."

"What do you mean?" She asks flatly.

Despite Althea's skill, my muscles are sore from being slammed around and a particularly nasty bruise has developed over the shoulder that refuses to stay in its socket. I look at Lovelace intently. She's been fighting Fallon the last few days, which means any of her injuries are internal. I've been the victim of the lasting effects of Fallon's mind attacks. They aren't fun.

"Fallon's been in your head the last four days," I reply simply. "I was just wondering if she'd left anything there."

She finally turns towards me, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you getting at, Arrows?"

"Nothing really. Just thinking out loud." I turn back to the sparring ring, watching as Fallon brings Loch to his knees holding his head and groaning. He's done little damage to her so far and she remains relatively unscathed. She's standing over him silently, her long staff she uses as a weapon stationary at her side. Loch is in enough torment without it. Gunnar's yelling instructions at him again, but apparently Loch can't hear him.

"She's gotten better. The Counsel must be thrilled."

"It's worse for the physically Gifted," Lovelace answers sharply. "If that big oaf was as tuned with his mind as he is with his muscles he wouldn't be loosing right now. I can keep her out better." She pauses and leans in closer towards me. "But, if you really want to know how it feels..."

She glares at me a moment and I can feel her prodding at my mind, looking for an entrance. It's much easier to block her when I'm not being distracted by the sharp edge of her blade. She's always been easier to detect than Fallon is anyways. Really, her mind attacks aren't much of threat to me anymore unless she makes physical contact or eye contact.

Out of my peripheral vision I see her hand coming towards me. I grab her wrist with my gloved hand, "Stop, Lovelace."

She snickers and pulls her wrist free. "What? Afraid I'll _confuse _you again?" She laughs cruelly.

"I wouldn't want you to think you were in love again."

I try to ignore her attempts to get under my skin. I was very young when I first met Lovelace in the sparring ring, only twelve. She was four years my senior and her striking blond hair and alabaster skin had intrigued me. After she muddled my emotions during our match I'd been too young and naïve to realize her attacks for what they were.

"There is no danger of that, Lovelace." I say coldly.

"No matter," she waves me off as she stands up and starts walking towards Gunnar, who's pulling Loch off the ground. "Looks like we're up."

We make an odd pair of opponents in the sparring ring. As she put it, I am physically Gifted, which leaves me more vulnerable to mental attacks than my mentally Gifted counterparts. I'm much more effective in keeping her out than Loch was with Fallon. However, Lovelace does manage to invade my emotions on a few accounts, which leaves me feeling a little disoriented and rather out of touch afterwards.

As long as I can keep my distance from her, I remain lucid. Her kind of Gift requires close proximity. If she can touch me or make eye contact I'm sure to start feeling those familiar emotions she always reserves for me: desire, need, and distraction. With Lovelace, I discovered long ago that a good defense is the best offense. So, I dodge attack after attack, both mental and physical, as she slashes the air with the blade of her sword. I dart from one wall of the ring to the other, my bow drawn with an arrow, awaiting an opportunity.

Then I see that opportunity. I draw a breath, slow down my surroundings to almost a standstill and shoot my arrow. It leaves my bow at what looks to me like a snail's pace. While it's mid-air I follow it with another, and another, and another. When the fourth arrow leaves the string, I release my breath and all four arrows take off towards Lovelace. She can't react before they pin her arms against the far wall.

I put my bow over my shoulder and look towards Gunnar, awaiting further instructions. In Master Zane's lessons we would be changing opponents next, but Gunnar has different strategies for our afternoons in the Tester's gym. He walks over to Lovelace, yanks the arrows loose that I shot at her, and pulls her to her feet. He says something to her in a low gruff voice that I don't bother overhearing.

Suddenly, Gunnar makes a sweeping motion with his arm and the walls of the ring move inward, making the sparring ground much smaller. Gunnar, like the Apprentice Blane, has the ability to control inanimate objects, though he's much more effective at it than the fifteen year old is. I immediately understand what Gunnar's doing. I draw my bow and get another arrow ready.

The next few matches proceed this way. Each time I pin Lovelace, Gunnar makes the ring smaller and smaller. It's not long before I am having serious trouble keeping out of reach. Finally, after a series of impressive sword maneuvers, she catches me around the wrist long enough to impart some emotional baggage.

I pull free in a blur of motion, but it's too late. I'm already feeling the aftermath.

_You need her. You have to be near her. She is everything. You must go to her._

I try to ignore it, but I can't get enough distance between us to shake the effects. My bow has also become quite ineffective in the small space, so I reach for the dagger I keep in my boot.

_You want her. You must have her. Go to her._

I shake my head of the thoughts and pull the dagger from my boot just as her sword swipes through the air over my head. My mind is foggy and my senses are bogged down with this terrible sense of longing. Before I can react with my dagger, she kicks me in the chest and I fall backwards several feet. It knocks the breath out of me, but the distance it creates is to my advantage. With a sudden burst of clarity, I move in blinding speed and grab my bow and load it with an arrow. I pull the string back, but before I can fire it she's clouding my mind again.

_Look at her. You belong with her. She is everything to you. Go._

I pause, glaring down the shaft of my arrow that's aimed at her thigh.

_You crave her. You must have her. Go to her. _

My mind screams at me to go to her, but my body won't listen. Slowly, hesitantly, my eyes travel up her torso, around the slender curves of her body, to her face. Her mouth is set in a thin hard line, her jaw clenches with concentration. My eyes pause on the delicate curve of her throat. When I reach her eyes my grip on my bow string loosens immediately. The yearning is too strong to ignore while she has me in eye contact. I lower my bow slightly, fighting the intense desire to be with her.

"You can't fight it," she says through clenched teeth. "There's nowhere to run anymore."

_This is what you want, Arrows. _Her voice is soft and sultry in my head. _This is what you've always wanted. _

I look at her, my bow string slack and my arrow dangling from my fingers. "Don't fight it," she whispers as she takes a few steps toward me, keeping me trapped in her gaze.

An alarm goes off in my head. I stiffen, and in a blur I pull my bow back up, aiming my arrow right at her chest. "Don't. Move."

She stops where she is, grinning slyly. Her eyes never leave mine. "Come on, Arrows. Just give in."

_She is everything to you. You must be closer to her. Just give in. _

I don't know what I'm doing. I take a cautious step forward. Lovelace's eyes narrow and the hand holding her sword twitches. Something inside of me takes over. I stop where I am with my arrow still aiming at her chest. She grabs at her sword then, just as my arrow launches forward, heading straight for Lovelace's heart. Before it can make contact, I fire another arrow that hits the tail of the first one, sending it into her thigh instead of her heart.

She howls in pain and instantly my head clears. I blink several times as Lovelace grabs at her leg, applying pressure around the wound.

Gunnar appears suddenly at my side, "Well done, Arrows. You are finally letting go of your restraint." He slaps me on the back before attending to Lovelace's injury. He inspects the arrow, which is buried a good inch into her thigh.

"This will require the Royal Healers. You three," Gunnar looks up at Fallon and Loch in the bleachers before turning his attention back to me. "No Gifts until I return."

Gunnar grabs Lovelace around the waist and she supports her weight with an arm around his shoulders. She glares at me as she hobbles out of the gym.

The rest of the afternoon I spar with Gunnar, which I actually enjoy. We work on my agility training as I dodge his projectiles at blinding speeds. I relish in my Gift during this type of training. It's almost fun.

Before getting in bed that night, I study myself in the full length mirror in the community boys wash room. I scrutinize my appearance and try to commit to memory how I look as an Apprentice. Grey eyes stare back at me behind dark hair that just reaches my chin. I look like I always have, lean sinewy muscles covered in pale skin. But I'm tired, worn out. I'm battered and bruised from training the last four days and dark circles are appearing under my eyes from sleepless nights. _What will I look like as an Elitist?_

The first thing to go will be my hair. They'll shave it the night of my Test, leaving behind only short stubble, to symbolize the beginning of my new life. I'll be allowed to grow it back, of course, but I wonder if I'll even want to. I'll be issued the standard Elitist uniform: black armor, black boots, black gloves, black hood. My eyes go to my wrists.

The most distinguishing features I'll have left will be the tattoos I'll earn. Those will be more personal. As my achievements as an Elitist develop, so will the ink on my body. I wonder how many recognitions Uncle Dagher has tattooed on him. He doesn't have many visible, but something tells me his body is covered in them.

I think back to my meeting with my uncle after I opened the letter and am shaken from my reveries at the sound of two Apprentices entering the opposite side of the washroom. I recognize their voices as Landon, a big guy with a short temper and never-ending endurance, and Grady, the young Apprentice with invisibility.

Grady's young prepubescent voice comes first. "I heard Lovelace went down pretty hard today over in the Tester's Gym."

"So? Lovelace is weak," Landon snarls. "The only reason she's Testing now is because they're sick of putting up with her.

"At least she won't be an Apprentice anymore."

"She won't be an Elitist either."

"What do you think will happen to her?"

"It doesn't matter. What will happen to any of us?"

Grady's quiet for a while before he speaks again. "I bet it was Arrows who got her. Loch would have just as easily snapped her in two. And if it was Fallon, she'd be locked up in the asylum."

"I don't think Loch is any shape to be snapping anything. Last I heard he was still mumbling about Fallon's hallucinations." Landon chuckles. "Even Althea couldn't calm him down."

There is a long silence while Landon and Grady shower and dress for bed. I finish up myself and decide I should probably be getting back to my own room. The bell will be ringing soon that signals lights out. I am just about to reach the door when Grady speaks again.

"Why do you think they chose Arrows? He's only sixteen. Same age as you."

Landon answers roughly "Why do you think? His uncle."

I freeze.

"What do you mean?"

"His uncle is legendary Elitist Dagher. I've heard the Masters talk about him." Landon drops his voice to barely above a whisper. I tune up my hearing to listen closer. "He's the only Elitist to ever get out alive."

"So you think he got the Counsel to let Arrows test early?"

"Don't you?"

"No." Grady answers after a long pause. "I don't think the Counsel wanted to wait for him to turn eighteen. He's pretty good."

"It will take more than _pretty good _to convince the Counsel he's ready to be an Elitist."

Grady and Landon's voices trail off out the door and down the hall again. I can still hear them as they walk off, discussing my fate with the Counsel as if they are debating what card game to play next.

I go back to my bunk room, dress in my Apprentice-issued pajamas, and get in bed, not even bothering to get under the blankets. Several minutes later, the night bell rings and my room goes black.

I lay in bed, staring at the black ceiling and trying not to think about the Test or my uncle... or what the Counsel may face me with... or what will happen if I fail…

I know better about my uncle. Dagher was just as surprised as I was to see the red envelope. I'm not sure why the Counsel has chosen me to Test so early, but I'm sure Uncle has nothing to do with it. In fact, as the week progresses I am starting to wonder again if the Counsel has made the right choice sending me that envelope in the first place. Even though I've managed to defeat Lovelace today, I don't feel near prepared for what lies ahead.

It's while I'm thinking about these things that I hear her familiar footfalls coming down the hall. Aari. My heightened senses have picked up on her approach many times before as she's crept into my bunk room after lights out. I'm not sure what it feels like to have a little sister, but I suppose Aari is the closest thing I'll ever have to one.

She was discovered by the Seekers when she was only five. That was seven years ago and she's clung to me since day one. I remember telling her stories, all tales I heard originally from my uncle, when she was scared or uncertain about being an Apprentice. I know the Counsel would not be happy about our secret meetings, but I'm glad she's kept them up after all these years.

"Aari, you should be sleeping," I whisper as she enters my room and closes the door behind her.

"You are not sleeping, why should I be?" Her response is simple, like they always are. Despite the darkness, her big brown eyes shine quizzically at me behind her long curly bangs.

"Sleep has been avoiding me the last few nights." I sit up in bed, allowing her to crawl up next to me. She does and we lay, side by side, in my small bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"I can tell, you look terrible."

"I know."

A comfortable silence settles between us. It has always been this way with Aari. We don't need to talk much to communicate.

"How are things in the Apprentices?" I ask the question more to get my mind off my own troubles, but I'm curious if the Counsel has graduated any of the younger Apprentices to the sparring rings since four of us were called to Test.

"They are the same. There are two newbies. One is a fire-conjurer, the other is a timewalker, like you. Though he is not very good."

I smile at the name _timewalker._ It's a term that Aari came up with after the first time she mimicked my Gift in the sparring gym. She likened it to walking through time because of the perception of time slowing down around her.

"He'll get better," I answer.

"You put an arrow in Lovelace today."

I let out a breath at the thought. "Yes, I did."

"You have never done that before. Why now?"

I look over at her, scrutinizing her expression through the dark. She's looking up at me expectantly. "I had to, Aari. It's not like it was with Master Zane. You'll see, one day..."

Aari nods, and turns her attention back up to the ceiling. She seems somewhat satisfied with my answer. Silence envelopes us again and I feel comfortable in it. A long time passes before either of us speak again. Briefly, I wonder if Aari has fallen asleep in my bed, like she used to do when she was younger and seeking comfort after a particularly bad training session. But I can feel the tiny movements of her breath, and I know she's still awake. When I listen closer, I can hear her heart beat and it lulls me into a state of contentedness.

When she finally speaks again, it startles me. "I made you something." Aari fumbles with something in her hands. "I know we are not supposed to have personal items..." She sits up in the bed and from her sleeve she pulls out a chain. On the end of the chain is a pendant. She holds it out to me. "For luck. For your Test. I want you to have it."

I sit up beside her and she drops the chain in my hand. The room is too dark to make out the details engraved on the face of the pendant, but it feels cold and slick in my fingers. "Thank you, Aari, but you know I can't accept this."

"Wear it around your neck and hide it in your shirt." Aari answers simply. "The Counsel will not know."

I smile at her, not wanting to argue. Instead I put the chain over my neck. "Okay. I can see this is important to you, so I'll wear it." I slip the pendant under the collar of my night shirt. "Thank you."

I wonder briefly where Aari got the necklace. Perhaps during one of her free Sundays away from the Counsel. "Aari, where did you-"

"It is from my home," she answers before I can finish my question. "It is all I have left." She pauses and smiles sadly. "I want you to have it. For luck."

I'm shocked that Aari is able to keep something from her home undetected for so long. It's only natural to have the desire. Most Apprentices are recruited at very young ages, before they have any real memories of their home or their families. Like me and Aari. I've seen other Apprentices attempt to keep attachments and they all met with strict discipline.

I'm struck from my reverie at the sudden feel of Aari's skinny little arms flinging around my torso. She buries her face in my chest, squeezing tighter as she does. "Arrows, you must pass your Test. Promise me."

I am shocked at her sudden physical contact and emotional outburst. As Apprentices we're not allowed many displays of emotion. _Where has she learned this?_ I'm not sure what to do, but I do want to comfort her. I pat her back. "I promise," I whisper. As quickly as she's there, she's pulling out of her embrace, seemingly satisfied with my response.

It suddenly occurs to me how very young Aari is to have to face such trials. It's only a matter of time before she will be spending her last days as an Apprentice. I don't like the thought of her having to Test. This revelation surprises me and I suddenly feel a strong need to protect the little girl sitting beside me, though I'm not sure what from.

Suddenly, she climbs from my bed and quietly makes her way back out of my room. She pauses at my door, "Good night, Arrows."

"Good night, Aari," I answer quietly, feeling an unexpected pang of affection for her.

I listen to the soft pitter patter of her bare feet as they pad back down the hallway to her own bedroom. Once I hear the soft click of her door shut, I release a shaky breath and run my hands over my face.

My Apprenticeship started at age four. Like Aari, I had a brief life before being an Apprentice. Flashes of obscure images come and go of my early childhood. A song sung by unseen lips, a smile, a laugh. A beach somewhere with waves and sand castles…

My uncle told me that my mother was there for a while, though I can't remember what she looked like. He says she died shortly before I was discovered by the Seekers. I've never had the courage to ask how.

I brush those images aside and think of Aari. I finger the cold metal of Aari's pendant under my shirt, pressing it into my breastbone over my heart. My sudden need to shield her has surprised me. Of all the Apprentices, she is probably the last one to need my protection. Her Gift of mimicry allows her to take on the abilities of her opponents and turn their own strengths against them. She hasn't developed her Gift as well as some of the other Apprentices, but the raw power she has is formidable in the training gym.

I lay awake for nearly an hour, going over different scenarios in my head that involve what my life will be like after my Test. I know it to be another long sleepless night. This prospect does not comfort or excite me, and after a while I decide it might be time for an outing.


	6. 5 Elliot

_5. Elliot_

I've made it no secret: I don't like it here in Royal City. I don't like the smell. I don't the people. I don't like the crowded streets and busy markets. I hate that the Counsel has made us come here, but I hate that there's nothing I can do about it more. It makes me feel useless and powerless and, as a guy who's lost a lot over the last two years, I really hate that.

I hate that it's taken me to so long to find work here. At home I was a contributor. My skills were needed and wanted and I provided something to the village. Here in this rotten city I'm useless. The muscle memory of working in the fields is useless. The knowledge of farming and herding means nothing. It makes me, again, feel powerless. If one more merchant or shop keeper turns me down for employment again because of my _inexperience _or _unappealing attitude _I might seriously loose it.

When I finally get offered the job at the Post, and I discover that I get my very own issued motorcycle to make deliveries on, it seems too good to be true and I take the job in a heartbeat. A _motorcycle? _I could hardly believe my ears when the manager told me the job – and consequently the motorcycle – was mine if I wanted it. _Of course I wanted it. _It's not much to look at and the mechanics of it are taking some getting used to, but it's the only thing in this rotten city I _do_ want.

Other than the tractor that Dad taught me to drive when I was a kid, and the trains that zip in and out of Northern Territory – including the one that delivered us to this this prison of a city – I'd never been on a motorized vehicle. We never had enough money growing up to own one. Even in the high and mighty _Royal City_, they aren't very common. Mostly just small scooters and motorcycles like the one I'm learning to ride now.

The kid showing me how to use it barks out an obnoxious laugh when I stick the clutch again and it grinds loudly in protest.

"Man! No, no, no... Keep your foot on the accelerator! You'll rip up the whole transmission if you keep doing that!"

This kid is seriously irritating me. I growl in frustration and try again. The bike doesn't stall – which for me, is progress – and it changes gears more seamlessly this time. I make a wide u-turn before heading back to the Post. The kid – his name is Tommy, and the only way I remember that is because it's inscribed on his jacket – pulls up behind me and dismounts easily. When I hit the brake on my bike I do it too hard and the whole motorcycle stops abruptly, throwing me into the handlebars. Tommy chuckles and pats me on the back, which annoys me more. "Don't worry, Elliot. You'll get the hang of it."

I grunt and turn off the ignition, pull off my helmet, and dismount. "I guess," I answer. "Thanks for the lesson anyways."

"Sure thing, man. Looks like you could use a few more, yeah?"

I don't justify that with a response other than the rolling of my eyes. It's getting late. The sun is casting long shadows over the buildings and I know my sisters will be expecting me home soon, but I don't feel like Elena asking me again if I've found a job yet. Even though I have... I know she's hoping that once I'm working I'll like it better here. I highly doubt that though and I don't want to see that hope in her eyes fade into disappointment. At least not yet.

Tommy and I wheel our motorcycles over to a long line of them parked behind the building.

"So has anyone given you the grand tour yet?" he asks as he parks his between two others.

They haven't, but if I tell him that he'll want to give me one and I'm not in the mood for any more niceties today. "Of the Post? Yeah, they did after the interview."

Tommy shakes his head, "No, man. I don't mean the Post," he stretches out his arms wide and gestures around him. "I mean this stink-hole of a city!"

"What do you mean?"

Tommy laughs light-heartedly and drops his arms. "Trust me, it's more putrid and rotten even than it smells. But you'll figure that out soon enough."

I don't say anything and he raises his eyebrows at me like he's expecting something from me. I shrug.

"You're not from here."

I eye him closely. "How do you know?"

"Because none of us are. They don't hire Royalists to do something as remedial as deliver the posts. All of us couriers are immigrants."

"Oh." I like Tommy a lot better now that I know he's not a Royalist. That's probably prejudice of me, but there it is. I don't like or trust the Royalists. Never have. Never will.

"So where ya' from?" he asks.

"Northern Territory," I answer. He doesn't ask why I'm in Royal City and I don't ask him either. It doesn't matter. We sit on the curb by the motorcycles and talk for a while about where we're from – he came here a year ago from Southern Continent – and I decide that I like Tommy. He's thirteen and he lives with his single mom and four brothers. He's the oldest. I get the impression that he's had to quit school and go to work since they have no father to take care of them. I understand that, but I don't tell Tommy about it.

After a while he raises his eyebrows at me, "You know... there's another courier here from Northern Territory. You should meet him."

"Really?" I'm intrigued. Northern Territory is huge, the largest of the five regions: Northern Territory, Eastern Province, Southern Continent, Western State, and Royal City. But our population is very sparse and spread out widely over the region. It's a long ways away from Royal City, and I can't image that any Northerner would be here if it weren't for the Counsel.

"Yeah, man. His name is Max. I've never met him..." Tommy pauses and looks around us carefully, as if he's ensuring that no one is around eavesdropping, "...but I've heard stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Well, I've only been with the Post for a month, yeah? But I've heard some of the other couriers talking about him." He dips his head and I have to lean in to hear him whisper, "They say that he's the leader of some kind of Resistance."

I furrow my brow, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know details, man. Just what I've heard. That he meets with them first Friday of the month over at a bar in the Entertainment District called Lacy's." Tommy scratches his neck and looks around again. "That's tonight, yeah? I've thought about going pretty much every month I've been here. Ya know, just to check it out. But my brothers..."

"Right... Your brothers."

"Ma works nights and if I'm not home there's no one there to watch 'em. Crazy what kind of trouble the four little devils can get into." He sighs and claps his hands together. "Well, Elliot, speaking of those rug rats... I better get going." He stands up and holds out his hand. I take it and he shakes it eagerly, "Sure nice to meet ya, man. I'll see ya around the Post, yeah? Let me know if you want another lesson. Could sure use one." He laughs.

I nod, distracted, and Tommy turns to leave.

A Resistance? In the city? I wonder about this Max guy. A Northerner. What kind of group is he leading and what are they doing in the city? By the very definition they're opposing _something._ But what?

Before he gets out of earshot I call out, "Hey Tommy!" He turns towards me and I jog up beside him. "What else do you know about Max? And where is Lacy's at in the Entertainment District?"


	7. 6 Elena

6. Elena

"I went to work with the Post today..."

I look up from my dinner plate at my brother.

"...as a courier."

"Ellie, that's great!" I fling my arms around my brother's neck. "I knew you'd get something."

He gives me a quick frown that I know is related to my use of the nickname and gently pushes me out of the hug. "It's not great, but it'll be enough to pay for Sabella's tuition."

Sabella, who's bent over her plate and pushing its contents around with her fork, perks up at the mention of her name. She's been pouting all evening because Salvia couldn't join us for dinner tonight.

"It sounds like a great opportunity." I nudge Sabella. "Don't you think, Bells?"

"Elliot just wants to work with the couriers because he wants to meet the Resistance," she says.

I frown at my sister as Elliot quickly brushes her remark aside. "That's nonsense, Sabella. I'm working so that you can keep going to school. Otherwise, you can get a job too if you'd like."

Sabella scowls at him.

"Resistance?" I turn my attention back to Elliot, now serious. "What is she talking about?"

"It's nothing."

"They talked about it at school," Sabella answers, smashing a piece of fruit with her fork. "They said there used to be a group of bad people that worked for the Post. They were called the Resistance and they used to do bad things to the Royalists."

My frown deepens. "Elliot?"

Elliot pauses, pondering Sabella's expression. "It's just stories, Sabella," he finally says.

He dodges any further questions from me and we spend the remainder of the evening playing cards and taking turns helping Sabella study for an exam. After she falls asleep during practice questions for the second time, I send her to clean up and get in bed.

Elliot is finishing up putting the cards away when he suddenly speaks up. "Elena, there's something I want to talk to you about."

I pause at the sink with a plate in one hand and a dish towel in the other. I look over at my brother where he stands with the cards in his hands. "What is it?"

"It's about the Resistance."

I feel my shoulders give, "Elliot, no..."

"Just hear me out," he interjects. "I wasn't entirely honest at dinner because I didn't want to scare Sabella." He pauses, studying me closely. I know he's looking for a response but I have no idea what to say. "Look, I don't know for sure _what_ the Resistance is, but I wouldn't call them _bad people_ just because they're looking for answers."

"You don't know that for sure," I point out.

"You're right. I don't. But I could _find_ out. They still meet. In a bar over in the Entertainment District called Lacy's. They're meeting tonight." He rounds the corner of the kitchen counter and grabs my shoulders earnestly. It's the first act of excitement I've seen out of my twin since we arrived in Royal City. "What if they can answer some of my questions about the city? About the Royalists?"

"What do you mean?" I ask warily. "I don't like the sound of that."

"There's a Courier named Max. He's a Northerner, Elena. Just like us." His violet eyes light up with something I haven't seen in them in a long time: hope.

Still, I'm wary. "So?"

"So! He's a part of the Resistance. He's the leader and he's from Northern Territory."

I open my mouth to argue, but Elliot presses forward without allowing me any space to intercede.

"I know. I know. You think I should just accept that we live here now and that everything will be fine. That you'll just be a Royal Healer and I'll just be a courier and we'll let Sabella grow up here and we'll all live happily ever after. But I know there's something sinister going on this city." His eyes are bright and intense. "I can feel it. The Resistance may be the answer I'm looking for. I want to know if it's true."

"If what's true? Elliot, this sounds like a bad idea. I thought you said the stories about the Resistance were just stories? Rumors?"

"I don't know. I think they defend the people and I think they're still here, in hiding."

"Defend the people from what?"

"From whatever evil is here in the city. I know it sounds crazy. But something in my head is screaming at me to find out more about it. I can't keep ignoring it."

"And this Max person? You think he's the answer, too?"

Elliot looks around and lets out a breath. "Maybe. I haven't met him yet, but from what the other couriers say... maybe he is."

"You don't even know who these people are. They sound like extremists to me."

"Elena, if there's a group in the city that's looking for answers, I want to be a part of it." He suddenly turns and heads towards the living area. "I want to meet Max. And I want to protect you and Sabella."

Elliot grabs his coat and sticks his arms through the sleeves as he heads for the door. "You don't have to come with me. I just wanted you to know where I was going to be in case-"

"Don't be ridiculous," I interrupt. "You wouldn't let me come to the city by myself and I'm not letting you do this by yourself." I grab my own coat and follow Elliot out the door. "If you insist on finding out about this group, then I'm going with you."

"What about Sabella?"

"She'll be ok," I walk over to Salvia's door and knock gently. "I'll tell Salvia we're going out and ask if she can keep an eye on her." I start when I feel Elliot's hand on my arm.

"I know you think this is a bad idea, but I'm glad you're coming with me. Thanks."

I manage to smile at my brother as Salvia opens her door. "Let's just say I owed you."

"Ow me wha?" Salvia asks around the toothbrush in her mouth. White foam is on her lips. Elliot frowns at her and I suppress a smile.

"N-nothing," I answer. "I was just hoping you wouldn't mind coming over and watching Sabella for us for a while. She's sleeping and Elliot and I have a quick errand to run."

"A ewan to wun at ten ocwock at nigh?"

"I know, I'm sorry it's late."

"No pwobwem. One secon," she disappears from the door. Elliot raises his eyebrows at me in a what-is-wrong-with-this-girl smirk. I smile and shrug. I can hear Salvia spit, then gargle and spit again, before she returns to the door wiping her mouth on a kitchen towel. "Okay, babysitter to the rescue!"

"Thank you, Sal!" I call as she crosses the hall and opens our door. "We really do owe you!"

"Anytime," she answers with a smile. She closes our apartment door and my brother and I make our way to the stairwell.


	8. 7 Danny

7. Danny

The streets of Royal City are damp with recent rain, and the low rumble of distant thunder warns of an oncoming storm. I don't mind being wet. In fact, I've always liked the rain. The feeling of cold rain drops on my face makes me feel alive and the smell of wet earth conjures hazy memories that make me feel warm inside.

I navigate the wet streets with precision, pulling the hood of my jacket down over my face . I keep my eyes on the pavers in front of me. Not wanting to draw attention, I only use my speed to sneak past the guards at the Capital Ring gates. Once outside the gates I rely on only my hearing and keen eyesight to stay hidden. The Royal Guards patrol the streets on horseback at night and I've been lucky thus far to avoid a run in with them.

Staying in the shadows of alleys, I make a haphazard path towards the outskirts of the city. As far as I know, I'm the only Apprentice to brave the repercussions of being caught outside the Capital Rings. It's been almost a year since my last voyage into the city. I had a very close call with some Royal Guards near the Financial District and barely escaped being found. Since then I've laid low and ignored desires to venture off the Apprentice Grounds.

Tonight, I decide, is the perfect night to revisit the city and its wonders. The weather is keeping the streets mostly vacant and the puddles on the ground warn me early of any on-comers. After only a few minutes in the fresh air, I know I've made the right decision. As my footsteps get further and further from the Capital Rings, I start feeling more and more at ease. My mind wanders from the Counsel and my Test to the tall buildings around me that manage to hide me from the rest of the world.

This particular part of the city I know to be very old. Some of the buildings here have stood for over 100 years. It's strange to think what the city must have looked like back then. Before it was the Capital. Before the Great War and before the Elitists.

I reach the end of the alley and find myself facing a large busy street. The building fronts are covered in large colorful signs that light up the street and flash brightly. I'm in the Entertainment District. Restaurants, clubs, and theaters line the wide street where throngs of people are hurrying along, huddled under umbrellas that are really unnecessary. The light shower that started up again hardly warrants the added protection.

For several minutes I stand in the drizzle, watching the people around me from underneath my hood. Across the street my alleyway continues into more darkness. The alley looks vacant, until I spot two people walking through a shadowed metal door hidden inconspicuously between two large dumpsters. A heavyset man stands in front of the door, his arms crossed over his giant chest, eyes staring ahead unblinking.

Something about the situation spikes my curiosity. I've never seen a guarded entryway outside the Capital Rings. I want to know what the city is hiding behind that mysterious door.

I think about how easy it would be to get in the door if I were like Fallon. A simple well-timed hallucination would make sneaking past that bouncer incredibly easy. The possibility of getting in that door seems nonexistent without using my Gift. In a matter of seconds I weigh my options and formulate a plan. I pull my hood tighter around my face and shove my hands in my pockets. Quickly, before I can change my mind, I head towards the man and the door he guards.

I walk calmly across the street, keeping my head low as I head straight for the door. A man and his date are just being admitted as I reenter the shadows of the alley. Before the bouncer closes the door behind them, I inhale sharply and the door, the bouncer, and the couple stand motionless just long enough for me to dart past the threesome undetected.

When I release my breath I'm in a small space no bigger than Uncle's apartment. To my right is a mahogany bar top with several seated people having drinks. To my left is a small stage with a piano playing soft music. Tables are scattered in front of the stage and along the back wall are several large booths. The stench of cigar smoke and alcohol welcome me.

I'm not sure what I was expecting to see when I got past that door, but a tiny bar with live music wasn't it. I wonder what could possibly be in the small space that requires the added security.

I slide into the dark recesses of the back wall of the bar, behind a booth with a young couple too caught up in each other to pay me any attention. I see that they have two full drinks on their table that are being completely neglected. They don't notice as I grab one.

I take a drink and study my surroundings better. A quick survey of the room tells me there are twenty-one people total in the bar: four couples, one singer, one pianist, one bartender, two waitresses, five men, and three women. None of them are a threat to me. There are two doors that lead out of the room. One of them I entered through, and another door leads into a small hallway. I listen closer and can hear the noises of a busy kitchen past the hallway. After establishing my exits, I feel more at ease.

On stage, a woman sings about love, her red lips pouring velvety music from behind her microphone. The sign over the stage says that her name is Alexis. Her voice is soft, soothing, and it melts the tension in my muscles. _This was a good decision to come here. _

I take another drink, watching Alexis as she saunters across the stage. She's much older than me. Mid forties, I think. I don't know anything about love, but there's no denying her beauty. The song ends before I'm ready for it to. She smiles into the microphone thanking the few patrons that cheer her on from their small round tables and red-cushioned booths. The applause lifts and she announces an intermission and makes her way off the stage. The pianist continues playing without her and I wonder why he doesn't deserve a break as well.

And then... I feel it. A strange tug. Like the one from the Healer's Quarters, except much stronger. I don't think the tug is a physical one until I realize that my heart rate has increased, my eyes are dilated, the tiny hairs on the back of my neck are on end, and there's a distinct pulling sensation over my entire body. Something or someone in the room is demanding my attention.

My drink forgotten, I study the room around me, gauging my surroundings. I've felt this intensity before, in the practice gym when my body alerts me to imminent danger. _But what could possibly be the source if it down here, in this hidden bar? _I scan the patrons at the bar, the people seated around me, and then, at the door… I see her.

It's her eyes that I notice first. They're large and unsure. I study her quickly in the time it takes her to enter the bar. She has light grey eyes and light brown hair that's pulled into a braid hanging six inches over her right shoulder. Five feet, seven inches tall. Small frame, maybe 130 pounds. She wears a heavy outer coat that's wet with rain, the style of it from a foreign culture. That, mixed with her tanned skin and darker features, tells me she isn't from Royal City.

Her eyes scan the crowd in the bar anxiously as the fingers on her left hand run along her bottom lip. She's nervous about something, though I can't tell what. I don't get the impression that she's looking for anyone in particular. Just… looking… I try to follow her line of sight when suddenly her gaze falls on me. My breath unwillingly hitches in my throat and I don't dare move a muscle. She pauses, staring at me shamelessly for what seems like an eternity.

I feel like I do when I'm time-walking, only I have no control over it. The scene around me stops, seemingly frozen in time. I no longer hear the piano on stage or see the couple at the booth in front of me. I barely hear my glass shatter as it collides with the floor underneath me. Everything surrounding me is a blur while her eyes are locked on me. The hand she's running under her mouth drops and I can see her full face now. She looks just as shocked as I feel.

Then, just as quickly as she held me in her gaze, she's looking somewhere else. She's absent-mindedly pulling wet hairs from her face and smoothing them into her braid. In an instant, I am released from the effect her stare had on me.

"Hello?"

I shake my head of the lingering haze the stranger left me in, and acknowledge the young girl standing in front of me. "Did you say something?"

"You dropped your drink." The waitress gestures to the shards of glass.

"Oh, sorry." I apologize, disinterested.

"Do you want me to ring up another one?"

"No." I answer distractedly as I look for the girl in the crowd again. I spot her by the bar. Her back is turned to me, but I am sure that it's her. The pulling sensation has returned, though not as demanding as it was only seconds ago.

"Figures," the waitress angrily sweeps the glass shards into a dustpan. I watch the girl at the bar intently. I should probably help the waitress clean up my mess, but I don't dare look away from this stranger. I haven't decided wether or not she's a threat, and I'm not about to give her the opportunity to strike first.

She's talking to a young man in a grey hat who looks strikingly similar to her. The boy wasn't in my earlier analysis of the bar, so I know he must have accompanied her. They have the same chestnut-colored hair and same brow line over the same light-colored eyes. He's a couple inches taller than the girl, but it's obvious they are related. Possibly brother and sister. Twins, maybe? I listen to them from across the room and try to analyze their strange country accent.

"This is a bad idea. We shouldn't be here," she's saying.

"You didn't have to come, you know."

"You weren't coming alone."

The boy looks over his surroundings. "I don't know, I kind of like it here." He wiggles his eyebrows at her, "It kind of reminds me of the taverns back home."

The girl rolls her eyes, "Let's just find them and get out of here."

I watch her intently, drinking in her features, trying to remember if I've seen her anywhere before. They're about my age, though I have trouble placing the accent they're speaking with.

"Tell me again how you knew where to go? Are you sure this is the place?"

"I told you, this is where he meets everyone. Lacy's." He gestures to the large sign hanging behind the bar that reads "Lacy's" in big green letters.

"And this Max... you trust him?"

"Like I said earlier, he's from Northern Territory, too. So yeah... I trust him."

"Northern Territory..." I mutter. I think back to an Apprentice who was inducted as an Elitist when I was only ten. Cade had come to Royal City from Northern Territory. His accent had the same inflections I hear in the two strangers' words now.

"Max?" The girl's nervous eyes are scanning the crowd again. I hold my breath until she turns her attention back to her companion. "What's he look like?"

I can hear the annoyance in the boy's voice as he answers. "I don't know, Elena. I told you, I haven't met him yet."

"This is a bad idea," the girl, now identified as Elena, repeats.

"Just go find a table somewhere and order some drinks. I'm going to see what the bartender will tell me."

I watch as the girl hesitantly walks off towards a free table not too far from where I'm standing. My legs are itching to take me to the table, like there is a tether attached to her and I have no choice but to follow it. It's a strange feeling and it puts me on edge to feel such a strong connection to a complete stranger.

The girl is trouble. I know it.

She sits at a table only a couple feet from my shadowed spot along the back wall. Several minutes pass as she sits there, quietly taking in her surroundings. I can reach out and touch her if I want to. I restrain myself and take a deep breath. She smells like honeysuckle. The thought strikes me as odd. I'm not sure I've ever smelled honeysuckle before, but somehow I know the scent. Sweet and flowery.

I'm contemplating this revelation when she turns in her chair and looks back towards me. I freeze. There's a hesitance in her gaze, and as soon as she makes eye contact with me she averts her eyes quickly to her hands. In that split second she manages to entrance me once again. Standing this close, I see that her eyes are not light grey, as I first thought. They are purple. No, not purple. Lavender, or light violet. With little specks of blue in them. I've never seen anyone with the unique eye color before. It's captivating.

She turns back around in her chair and the world around me spins into motion again. I slump against the wall helplessly. The young man is back and they're talking again.

"The bartender wouldn't tell me anything useful. All he did was comment on the moon." The young man pulls his hat off his head – it's still soggy with rain water – and slops it on the table.

"The moon?"

"Yeah, he said... _full moon is out tonight, can't see it, but it's there._" The young man grunts and motions to a passing waitress. "Whatever that means."

"It sounds like a metaphor. Maybe he means that they're here, we just can't see them."

The boy shrugs his shoulders. "Maybe."

I watch as the couple orders drinks from the waitress. In the few minutes since I first saw the strangers I form a quick list of facts about them. One: they are in the bar to meet a group of people. A secretive and perhaps not entirely innocent group of people. That explains the guard at the door. Two: they are from Northern Territory. Three: they're probably still very new to the city. It's perhaps only been a few days since their arrival.

I know that most immigrants to Royal City are here for either work or the Counsel. I think back to the sensation I had in the Healer's Quarters and how similar that feeling is to what I feel now. I study the pair more closely. _Could one of these foreigners be the new Royal Healer?_ I look at Elena, the girl, my heart jumping around in my chest as I add another item to my list.

Four: it seems highly likely that she is the newest addition to the Royal Healers, which makes my proximity to her now a new threat. If she sees me and somehow identifies me as a Tester, I will be done for.

Can she be trusted?

The more I look at her, the less threatening she seems. Even so, it isn't worth the risk.

I have to get out of the bar undetected.

I'm judging my next course of action when a loud bang suddenly sounds from across the room. I look up just in time to see the front door being kicked in as a group of Royal Guards come rushing in to the bar. Their swords are drawn and they're shouting orders in deep harsh voices. Rain sweeps into the small room and lightening lights up the open doorway behind them.

"No one move! You are all under arrest for conspiring against the Royal Family!"

In a split second the bar goes from quiet and calm to complete chaos. Several people jolt for the door. No one makes it past. More patrons go for the back door leading to the kitchen, but before anyone can make it far more guards appear there, too.

Instinctively I reach for my bow and quiver of arrows before I remember that I left my weapons back at the Apprentice's Grounds. I draw a deep breath and the patrons' flee for freedom slows to a crawl. The bar becomes a stand-still as I decide my next move. I can not, _will_ not, be caught as a Tester outside of my bunk this late at night. The consequences, I know, will be dire.

There are six Royal Guards blocking the exits, four at the front and two at the rear. The front door is not an option for escape. I know that there will be more guards on horseback waiting out in the storm.

I start for the rear exit when my chest gives a strong lurch towards the stage. I turn towards the source of the feeling and come face to face with the girl. Elena. Her eyes are wide with panic and her wrist is caught in the hold of her companion. He's in the act of bolting towards the bar. Even frozen in time, her eyes catch me off guard and the trance returns.

I release my breath without meaning to. The girl suddenly staggers forward towards me, her companion tugging her along without realizing he's pulled her straight into my chest. I catch her as she stumbles and we fall together into a heap on the floor.

She looks up at me, startled by my sudden appearance, as she tries to right herself. "I'm sorry..." she hastily apologizes, pushing off my chest and scrambling to her feet before I'm completely sure what's happening.

"Elena, come on!" The young man tugs at her wrist again and she follows as they both dive behind the bar.

Bewildered, it takes me several seconds to clear my head. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a sword coming my way. I suck in a fast breath. The sword stops advancing and the guard behind it stands frozen.

I scan my surroundings and find Elena and her companion huddled behind the bar. I look at the chaos around us and then back at the fear in Elena's eyes. I am sure that a Tester being caught in this heist is only slightly worse than a new Royal Healer still in training. The next thought strikes me without preamble. _I'm not sure why or how, but I have to help them get out of this bar._

Using my speed to get them out the back door isn't an option. It would only reveal me as a Gifted to the Royal Guards and these two strangers I've decided to help. My plan comes to me quickly. The chaos around me spins back into motion as I pull my hood down very low over my head to hide my face. I bolt for the back door.

I've never attacked a Royal Guard before and every fiber of my being screams in protest as I reach for a nearby wine bottle and hurtle it towards the closest guard. The bottle shatters against the wall as the guard ducks at the last second. I dodge the sword that comes at me next, and then pick up a chair and splinter it against the guard's head, knocking him unconscious. The ladder back of the chair remains intact in my hands and I'm able to use it as a makeshift shield when the second guard comes at me with a flurry of daggers. I dodge his attacks easily. Using only my keen senses, I lay out the two guards at the back exit in a matter of seconds. I grab the sword the first guard used against me and rush to the bar.

Elena and her companion are still crouched there, looking for their opportunity to escape the bar.

"Follow me." I hastily instruct. I reach out towards her.

She stares at me only a second before placing her hand in mine. An electric charge ignites in my fingertips the second my hand clasps around hers. I start from it, frowning as I try to understand its origin and meaning.

"Elena? What are you doing? Who is that?"

The girl reaches behind her and grabs the young man's hand with her free one. "Come on, Elliot. We've got to get out of here." She turns back to me expectantly and I move without thinking, pulling the girl and her companion behind me towards the exit. More guards rush at us from the front door as we hurtle the two I've already knocked out. The sword has never been my first pick as a weapon, but I'm fast and precise. Even without my Gift, and only using one hand – my other one grips the girl – I dispatch the small group of advancing Royal Guards easily.

We slip through the door into a narrow hallway where I can hear multiple approaching footsteps from behind us. More guards are following us. Quickly, we dart through the kitchen just as they appear in the hallway. I don't look back. We burst through a back doorway into a different back alleyway behind the bar. We're greeted with pounding rain and rolling thunder.

I stop to listen for only a second, but I struggle to hear anything past the roar of the storm. I'm still grasping the girl's hand in mine. I can feel her shaking. Peering into the rain, I can barely make out the outline of approaching Royal Guards to our right. I turn and set off in the opposite direction, Elena and Elliot following closely behind me.

We run into the storm and away from the hoof beats of the guards' horses until I can no longer hear their pursuit. After several blocks I stop under a wide awning of a store front and survey our surroundings. The building's design tells me we're in the Cultural District, which means we've run closer to the Capital Rings. I listen closely and peer into the pouring rain, but find no evidence that we've been followed.

Beside me, the girl leans over as she catches her breath. I look down and realize her hand is still grasped tightly in mine. I release it and she places it on her knee to support herself.

"I think we've lost them," I mutter.


	9. 8 Elena

8. Elena

The first clear thought to strike me once we've stopped running is of my brother.

"Elliot?" I turn to my left, where he stands catching his breath.

"I'm ok." He closes the few feet between us and lays his hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?

He eyes me up and down.

I nod, pushing wet hair out of my face."I'm fine."

"I'm sorry," Elliot moves his hand behind my head and rests his forehead against mine. "I'm so so sorry, Elena. I should have never let you go with me. I don't know what I was thinking."

I open my mouth to protest, but the stranger speaks over the rain before I can say anything.

"You should not stay here long." The stranger that somehow got us out unharmed speaks with a raspy voice. He sounds younger than I expect him to be. "They're still looking for us." He stands just outside the awning, the rain soaking his black jacket. Lightening lights up the sky behind him, followed by a long rumble of thunder.

I turn towards our rescuer, pulling away from my brother and peering through the darkness to see under his hood. All I can see is shadow. "You... You got us out. How did you-" My question dies in my mouth before I can complete it. He stands motionless. "Thank you." I take another step towards him and he shifts away from me. "We would have never gotten out without your help."

"You're welcome. Do you know where to go from here?" he asks in clipped tones, his voice even.

His abruptness startles me. I stop short. "I think so. Elliot? Do you know where we are?" I turn towards my brother, who is eyeing the stranger suspiciously.

"Who are you?" Elliot asks as he quickly positions himself between me and the stranger. "Where'd you come from? I've never seen anyone fight like that."

The hooded boy ignores Elliot's question and instead turns his hooded face towards me. "Elena, you have to get out of here before they come. I can help you get home if you need me to, but you can't stay here."

I jump when the stranger speaks my name. "How do you know my name?" I demand, suddenly very wary of our rescuer and his intentions. "Who are you?" I repeat my brother's question.

"He was eavesdropping on us at the bar." Elliot answers evenly. He backs me up with his arm. "Weren't you? You couldn't take you eyes off my sister."

The stranger simply nods his hooded head. "Yes I was. You should leave. Now." He stands very still for a couple seconds, like he's listening for something very closely. Suddenly he turns his head towards the opposite side of the street. "They're heading this way."

I look where he's looking, but see nothing. Only the pounding rain and a low lit streetlight over a deserted bench and trashcan. "How do you know?"

"You have to go," the stranger turns to leave and takes several steps before I dart around Elliot to catch him at the shoulder. Without the protection of the awning the rain beats down on me and I have to blink several times to keep it out of my eyes.

"Wait, who are you? What's your name?" I call through a loud roll of thunder.

He turns towards me and in the dim light I can just make out a pair of bright grey eyes. They stare back at me from behind long black hair that drips with rain. My breath gets caught somewhere in my chest as he answers. "Danny. My name is Danny."

I open my mouth to respond and he's suddenly gone, with no indication he was standing in front of me only a second ago. No sound of retreating footsteps, no sight of him anywhere. Just... gone.

It startles me for only a second. Lightening flashes and then Elliot is there, grabbing my arm and pulling me further into the ally. "He's right, we need to go. Now."

I run, following my brother's pull but staring intently at the spot where the boy vanished right in front me. Somehow I expect him to reappear as quickly as he disappeared.

It's well past midnight and the storm's moved on when we finally make it to our building. We take several wrong turns before we come across a small trader post on the outskirts of the Shopping District that Elliot recognizes. He applied for a job there several days ago, only to be turned down due to his "inexperience."

We climb the stairs to the third floor of our building in silence. Neither of us have said anything about the strange boy who helped us. _Danny_, I remind myself. _His name is Danny. _

When we make it back to the apartment I find Salvia and Sabella sleeping soundlessly in the bedroom. I don't wake them. Instead, I close the door and return to the living room to find Elliot sitting on the sofa, staring ahead unmoved.

I study his silhouette. His clothing is soaked, his gray hat soggy and wrinkled in his hands. His hair is ruffled and sticking out all over his head like it used to when we were kids. His shoulders are slumped in either exhaustion or defeat, I can't tell which. But I'm sure of the familiar worry lines around his violet eyes that speak of responsibility and shame. "It's not your fault," I tell him. "I know you blame yourself for taking me there, but neither of us were hurt and now we're home safe. It's over." I pull my wet jacket off and throw it over a chair back to dry.

Elliot's voice is distant as he answers. "It's not that. Don't get me wrong, it was stupid of me to let you go and I won't be making that mistake again. It's this place. This... city." He spits the last word out as if it tastes bad in his mouth. "There's more going on here than I first thought. It's more," he pauses before meeting my eyes, "It's more dangerous."

I sit by him on the sofa, stretching out my legs before pulling off my boots. My feet are soggy and sore. Elliot continues as he too works on pulling off his wet shoes.

"I thought I might get some answers tonight. I never expected the Royal Guard to take interest in whatever's going on at that bar. It must mean that whoever the Resistance is, they believe so much in what they stand for that they're willing to risk their lives for it."

"That doesn't mean that you have to do the same." I argue. "Please, promise me you won't go back there."

He doesn't answer at first.

"You're going to get yourself killed. Elliot, these people are dangerous. You said so yourself."

"I did..." he acknowledges. "I'm just not sure which people."

"It doesn't matter!" I exclaim. "Just stay out of it. Please. Think of Sabella. Think of me."

He looks to me suddenly, as if a thought has struck him. "You're right. I don't want you or Sabella to get involved. I don't want either of you to get hurt. What on earth was I thinking?" he squeezes his hat in between his hands, crushing it and soaking the carpet in water. "You're a Royal Healer now. If you'd been caught, who knows what they would have done to you for being there."

I place a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "But we weren't caught-"

"I don't want you to go looking for that stranger." Elliot cuts me off, his face stern now. It startles me.

"I don't understand-"

"I know you, Elena. You think that we owe him something. But we don't."

"You mean Danny?"

"He's a stranger and he's one of them." Elliot levels a hard look at me. It reminds me of the look Dad used to give us when we'd done something to get in trouble. "I'm serious. Stay away from him."

"He's one of who?"

"One of the dangerous ones."

I've never seen my brother so intent about anything. His face is a series of hard lines and his eyes are set with an absolution that startles me. "How do you know he's dangerous?" I venture. "He saved our lives. Without him..." I shutter to think what the Counsel would do with a traitor Royal Healer.

"I know, but doesn't it seem a little strange the way he was dressed, not letting us see his face? He fought those Royal Guards like they were school children and the only thing he seemed at all interested in the whole time was you."

I think about the way the Counsel has been keeping up with my every move. How they knew about my brother and sister, the inn we stayed in our first night in the city, and my family history... "Do you think he was spying on me?"

"I don't know. All I know is that he's a trained fighter who doesn't want to be identified. And he's taken an interest in you."

I can't deny that what Elliot is saying is the truth. I watched that stranger, Danny, take down four full grown men that were nearly twice his size in a matter of seconds, and the way he spoke my name... like he already knew me. It's chilling.

"Ok," I concede. "I promise not to look for the stranger if you promise not to go back to one of those meetings." I hold my arm out expectantly.

Elliot hesitates before he wraps his fingers around my elbow, "Agreed."


	10. 9 Danny

9. Danny

When I make it back to my bunk room, which I do without being caught, I find Aari asleep in my bed. Of all the nightly visits from Aari over the years, I can't remember two of them coming in one night. It surprises me to see her curled up under my sheet, her head resting on my pillow. She looks... peaceful. I study her briefly. Her eyes are closed, her small chest rising and falling rhythmically under the sheet, her right arm curled under the pillow, her left laying across her abdomen. Yes, _peaceful_ is definitely the right word for it.

I know I'll have to eventually wake her, but I don't want to disturb her just yet, so I sit on the floor and lean back against the bed. I am soaked to the bone, my clothing clinging to me uncomfortably. I pull my jacket and shirt up over my head and dump them in wet pile at the foot of the bed. I know I'll have to find a way to hide my clothing while it dries, so that none of the Masters find it like this, but I'm too tired to worry about that now.

I push my damp hair out of my face and lean my head back on the bed. I stay in this position for nearly twenty minutes, without moving a muscle, while my mind races with the night's events.

Was it a mistake helping Elena and her brother out of the bar? I think back to our encounter in the street. Elena's brother didn't trust me. It's easy for me to see that much. _Elliot, his name is Elliot. Elena and Elliot, the twins from Northern Territory. Why did I feel so compelled to help them in the first place? _

I am an Apprentice. Better yet a Tester. And hopefully soon to be an Elitist. I'm not supposed to think that way, not supposed to put others first. The Royal Family is supposed to be my only concern, under the guidance of the Counsel. Helping them went against everything I've learned during my Apprenticeship, everything I've trained for. But even so, it felt... right. Somehow I know deep down that I did the right thing.

I find myself smiling. The feeling welling up inside my chest, I don't know what it is, but it feels good. The feeling of doing something and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it was the right thing to do. I've never felt it before.

I think about that and decide that's because I rarely get the chance to do anything that's not predetermined for me. I wonder if serving the Royal Family as an Elitist will have the same rewards. It must, or what was it all for anyway?

My Test is barely a week away. Has it really been six days since I got my red envelope? It doesn't seem like it. Tomorrow I'll have to face Lovelace in the ring again, I'm sure of it. After that, it's only a couple days before it's time to pair with Fallon. That prospect is not enticing.

Suddenly, I feel very tired and decide that perhaps it's time to wake my sleeping friend and go to bed. I stand and turn towards her. Her mass of brown curls hides her face. I nudge her shoulder once and she instantly pushes her hair out of her face, sits up in bed, and pulls out a small dagger she has hidden under my pillow. She does all these things in what would look like a blur of motion, were it not for my keen eyesight. I grab her arm just as fast and she points the dagger at my throat for a only a second before her eyes flash with recognition. I feel the sting of blood springing to where she nicked the skin just under my Adam's apple.

"You are back," she says simply as she lowers the blade.

I move my hand on top of hers, over the dagger, and push it hastily out of plain view. "Were you expecting someone else? What are you doing with a weapon out of the sparing rings? You know it's forbidden!"

She sheathes the dagger and stuffs it in the band of her pajama pants. "The Counsel does not know about the dagger. Where were you?"

"They can find out Aari. They can find out and punish you for it." I insist. "Don't do that again."

"They do not know about it. Where were you?" she repeats. "You were gone for over an hour. I watched you leave the Apprentice Grounds from my window. Where did you go?"

"Is that why you're here? Because you saw me leaving?" Aari continues staring at me expectantly in silence. Finally, I sigh and, resigned, take a seat next to her on my bed. "I wanted some fresh air so I went for a walk."

Aari narrows her eyes at me and points to my chest. "Your walk must have been dangerous. Did you encounter an enemy?"

I look at her questioningly before looking down to where she's pointing. A long open laceration stretches from the bottom of my right collarbone to my breastbone, ending just under Aari's pendant that still hangs from my neck. I'm surprised I haven't felt it before. I run my fingers over it and they come away dry. The wound is already crusted with dried blood. It must have come from the Royal Guard's sword that I fought at the back door of the bar.

"I scratched myself on a branch when I climbed down the building."

The lie comes easily, without any forethought, and it surprises me. Lying is not part of an Apprentice's training and I've always been terrible at it. Aari immediately accepts my lie as truth though, since she has no reason to expect otherwise.

"Be careful, Danny Arrows, sneaking out at night," she says as she heads towards the door for the second time that night. "You are risking a lot for fresh air." She quietly shuts the door behind her and heads back to her own room.

I collapse into my bed and don't even mind that my wet hair and pants are forming large damp circles on the sheets and pillow. Aari is right. I have risked a lot for my night out, more than I intended when I first set out only a couple hours ago. Despite this knowledge, the warm feeling in my chest remains. I've done it for the right reasons.

I sleep better that night than I have all week. I awake the next morning before the morning bells are even ringing. It's still dark outside and for a few quiet moments I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and waiting for the bells. I think about my uncle and what he might say if he knew about my actions at the bar. Uncle Dagher has always told me to "go with your gut", and that "nine times out of ten, your first instinct is your best." I can't help but think along those lines with regards to what I've done. Mostly, I think about the girl, Elena. It's nearly impossible not to. When the morning bells finally ring I feel anxious to get to the Tester's Gym.

My morning with Master Doran goes quickly. I feel focused and refreshed and for the first time this week, I actually feel like a Tester. The forms and attacks that Doran's been trying to teach me all week suddenly come easily and naturally. I execute them as if I've been doing them my whole life. My precision is met with enthusiasm and encouragement from my Master.

Lovelace presents no challenge at all during our sparring sessions. Each round is shorter and shorter as it takes me less and less time to defeat her. The next two days end with emotional outbursts from her that shake the walls of the training rings and leave everyone feeling the shockwaves and aftermath of her scorn. Afterwards I don't even need to visit the Royal Healers with the other Testers. I leave each sparring round completely unscathed. I'm somewhat glad. Although my conviction hasn't changed – I still know that what I did for Elena and Elliot was the right move – some part of my brain knows that Elena can still pose a threat to me if she were somehow able to identify me.

It's only five days until the Test and I'm finally starting to feel ready for it.

I've been in the ring with Lovelace for only half an hour and she's already sweaty, bloody, and out of breath. She succumbs to my arrows a fifth time and her temper gets the best of her. A stream of obscenities pours from her lips and she suddenly lunges at me with a flurry of sword movements. Before she can take another step, I load my bow and an arrow flies at her. It sinks into her right shoulder. She screams and reaches for the arrow. As she does, I bury another one in her left forearm.

She drops to her knees as I pull another arrow back. "Enough!" she screams. Tears pool in her eyes, but they stay there instead of spilling down her cheeks.

I keep my arrow pointed on her, gritting my teeth, poised, ready to shoot. Suddenly, Gunnar appears at my side. "Well done, Arrows." His hand appears on my arm and I lower my bow. "Well done."

I let my bow go slack at my side. "Thank you, Master Gunnar."

"Take your partner to the Healing Quarters. When you return, you will continue sparring with me as your partner," Gunnar instructs as Lovelace falls back against her heals. She grunts loudly as she yanks the arrow out of her forearm. Blood pours from the wound before she rips the sleeve off of her shirt and uses her teeth to tie it into a makeshift tourniquet. The arrow in her right shoulder remains there, sticking out of her body awkwardly and wiggling with every movement of her right arm.

I nod at my instructor, "Yes, Master." I move to help Lovelace up but she shrugs off my help and yells, "Don't touch me!" She struggles to her feet on her own and heads towards to door. I follow silently as Gunnar calls for Fallon and Loch to pick up where we left off.

After what feels like a long walk – I rarely _walk_ anywhere on the Apprentice grounds and I sometimes forget just how far some of the buildings are from each other – we finally arrive at the Healer's Quarters. I offer several times to carry her or use my Gift to get us there faster, but she refuses to look at me or answer me. She hasn't spoken a word to me since we left the Tester's gym, but her eyebrows remain low in a deep frown.

I feel nervous about going somewhere I know Elena will be. _Will she recognize me if she sees me? And if she does will she say anything?_ As soon as we walk through the doors of the building, I feel her presence like a tangible object. My eyes dart around the room reflexively, but she's nowhere to be seen. I don't know if I feel relieved or disappointed at her absence, maybe a mixture of both. A Royal Healer appears at our side immediately and starts to lead Lovelace to a nearby room. I recognize the Healer as Salvia, a pretty girl with blond hair and a nice smile.

I stand awkwardly in the front entryway for a few minutes, wondering what Althea might think when she sees the arrow in Lovelace's shoulder. I hope that she'll be proud. I'm finally doing what the other Testers had been doing all week: I am letting go of my restraint.


	11. 10 Elliot

10. Elliot

"Alex."

"Corine."

"Gage."

My mind wanders as the couriers ahead of me pick up their deliveries and head for the door. Other couriers stand in small groups around me, talking in hushed voices. I see Tommy. He tilts his head slightly and I nod back. It's been three days since I first met the kid and he told me about Max. I haven't told him yet what happened at the bar that night and he hasn't asked. I like that about him.

"Dorian."

"Michael."

"Eliza."

I made a promise to my sister and I intend to keep it. Sixteen years and I've never gone back on my word with Elena. I don't plan on changing that now. So I try to keep to myself. I know if I hear more talk about Max and the Resistance, it'll just be a temptation that I don't want to face. I try to occupy myself by playing with the zipper on my Post-issued brown leather jacket.

"Jade."

"Elliot."

I right myself from my leaning position in the doorframe, make my way over to the counter and get in line behind the short brunette with _Jade_ printed across the front of her leather jacket. She's cute, and the old me would flirt with her. The new me keeps his distance. Elena hates that. That I've changed so much. But what did she expect? I have too many responsibilities now to be the Old Elliot. The line moves up a step as the courier behind me speaks quietly – so quietly I'm not sure at first that she's speaking to me.

"You're looking for answers in the city."

I start, but keep my focus straight ahead, on the back of Jade's jacket, and remain silent.

When I don't respond, she speaks again. "So you're not looking anymore? Either you weren't looking for much and you already found it, or you give up very easily."

I turn my head slightly to the side, but remain silent. I'm still not convinced the girl is speaking to me, and if she is, I'm not convinced I want to answer her.

"I know who you are, Elliot Carey."

I am pulsed at the sound of my name, but don't let it show. I smirk and my mouth responds before my brain can tell it not to. "Do you? I doubt that."

"I know your sister was summoned here to be a Royal Healer, I know you are a long way from home, and I know there is more to you than meets the eye."

The line moves another step ahead. "Is that so?"

"Do you know who I am?"

I try to remember the name that was called after mine, but can't recall it. "Should I know who you are?"

I hear a small puff of air and assume the courier is smirking at me behind my back. "Do you always answer a question with a question?"

"That depends, do you always talk to people so cryptically and secretively?"

The courier chuckles softly behind me and I feel myself smiling. The line steps ahead again as I answer. "You have no idea."

"Jade." The woman behind the desk calls her name and hands Jade a messenger bag and a clip board. Jade takes her deliveries and heads for the door.

"Elliot." I step forward and receive my bag and clipboard.

The girl behind me whispers as I leave the counter, "Meet me behind the building before you leave for your deliveries."

I contemplate my next action as I head for the door. _Should I meet this girl?_ It doesn't exactly go along with my new decision to keep to myself. Still, I want to know what she has to say. When I was a kid Mom always scolded me that my curiosity will one day get the better of me. I don't know... maybe she's right.

I steal a glance at the girl as I head for the door, but I can't see much of her with her back turned to me and a broad rimmed hat hiding her face. She steps forward as the woman at the desk calls her name.

"Maxine."

...

I stand behind the Post, watching the girl as she approaches, her face still obscured by the brim of her hat. "You're Max."

She looks up just enough so that I can see her mouth. It's drawn into a slight smile. Her lips are bright red. "Guilty as charged."

"But you... I thought..." I feel stupid. I don't know why, but I feel unprepared and stupid.

"You thought I was a boy." Max grins wider and finally pulls her hat back far enough so that I can see her entire face. She has dark ebony hair pulled back out of her face. Her eyes are dark, almost black, and rimmed in long black lashes. She's beautiful, but it doesn't phase me. I'm angry.

She peers at me thoughtfully. "Or at least you thought Max was a boy."

"Of course I did. Who wouldn't hear the name Max and think-"

"Is it so difficult to believe? Would you still have been interested in the group if you'd known that I was a woman?"

"Interested?" I feel heat rising into my face. "Max's gender had nothing to do with my interest. I was _interested_ because I thought you had a purpose, I thought you were fighting for something, for a cause. My family was dragged here against our will and I thought you might be the only person here that could tell me how I could get us back home again. I wanted to meet you because I thought..." I realize my voice is climbing. I pause and take a deep breath, "I thought you knew something about the city that I've only been speculating."

"I know everything about this city." Max answers steadily. "I know her secrets and her lies, I know her criminals and her wrongly accused, I know who is killing her. And I know how to save her."

I can hear it now, in her voice. Her inflections carry the same tones mine do, though not as pronounced. However much time she's spent in Royal City has hidden most of her accent. Her skin is paler than most Northerners, but there's definitely something about her that reminds me of home. "You're from Northern Territory. I thought I could trust you because you're a Northerner, too."

"That's right." She steps up next to me. She's tall, only a couple inches shorter than me. From a distance I thought that she was older, maybe mid-twenties. She carries herself in a way that exudes confidence and maturity. But standing this close, I can see she is younger than that. Her skin is smooth with an almost childlike softness. Her black eyes narrow. "Are you worried that you can no longer trust me, Elliot Carey?"

I watch her closely. She's standing so close to me that I can see a faint white scar on her throat, just under the shadow of her chin. "I have to do what's right for my family," I answer steadily.

"Your sisters," Max smiles, her red lips parting to show shockingly white teeth. "I understand. You _can_ trust me." She looks at me intently, her black eyes softening slightly as she stares at me. "No matter what happens, you can always trust me."

I cross my eyebrows at her questioningly and take a step back, "Why are you here anyways?"

"I think you know what I'm here."

"The Resistance." I answer knowingly.

Suddenly Max's hand clamps over my mouth and she's pushing me back into the shadows behind the building. It catches me off guard and I almost trip. I support myself against the brick of the building.

"Shhhh," she admonishes me, her dark eyes fierce in front of mine. Her hand is warm and soft over my mouth. Her skin smells like soap. "What are you trying to do? You can't say that name around here. You never know who's watching." Her eyes dart around nervously. "Or who's listening."

I grab her arm and pull her hand from my face with more force than I intend. It snaps her attention back to me. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm not really familiar on the rules of your _organization_." I step away from her, towards the side of the building where the motorcycles are parked. "And anyways, I'm not interested in whatever you have to offer."

I know that Max narrows her eyes after me before following me. I can feel her behind me, but I don't slow down. I can't break my promise to Elena.

"I can give you what you're looking for, Elliot Carey."

"Oh yeah?" I find myself saying, "and what exactly am I looking for?"

I find my bike and throw a leg over the seat, arranging my bag at my hip. I look up to see Max standing right in front of my front tire. She has her boot propped up on one of the spokes. "Answers."

I smirk at her, "You're the one who found me. It seems like you were the one looking for something."

Max's face is expressionless. She just watches me closely with those dark eyes, making me feel both vulnerable and empowered at the same time. It's unnerving. "If I remember correctly, it was you who were looking for me in the bar," she says simply. "And when you decide you want to look again, you'll know where to find me."

It startles me that she knows about that, but I don't let it show. I smile a crooked smile at her and start the engine. The bike vibrates to life underneath me, "And what makes you so sure I'll look for you again?"

Max steps off my tire and crosses her arms over her chest with a knowing smile. "Because I'm never wrong about these sorts of things."


	12. 11 Elena

_13. Elena_

I look at the girl in front of me with a mixture of awe and disgust. I haven't seen anything like this girl's injuries since being appointed a Royal Healer, which is why Salvia insisted I sit in on the Healing. I quiet my own mind and read the girl's energy through my hands that are placed on either side of the girl's head. Her body is riddled with hundreds of old injuries. Scar tissue is everywhere and speaks of years of trauma, which shakes me since I guess the girl to only be a few years older than me.

Her newest injuries include a long list of contusions and sprained muscles, several shallow lacerations that litter her arms and legs, and one deep gash to her left forearm that, were it not for the tourniquet, she could bleed to death from in less than an hour. Her most obvious injury doesn't require the specializations of a Royal Healer to detect. She has a large arrow shaft protruding from her right shoulder that's buried a good two inches into the soft tissue surrounding the joint.

I shudder inwardly. _Who did this to this poor girl?_

"Lovelace," I open my eyes when I hear the voice of the other Healer in the room. Her name is Althea and she sits quietly while she allows me to read the girls' energy and identify her injuries. "This is Elena, one of our new Royal Healers. I hope you do not mind if she watches our session."

"I don't care who she is, Althea!" the girl, now identified as Lovelace, spits rudely. "Just get this arrow out of my shoulder so I can get back to the training gym."

"You have sustained quiet a few injuries," Althea continues as she motions for me to step aside. I do, as Althea wets her hands and places them over the deep gash on Lovelace's forearm. "Close you eyes and try to relax."

Lovelace sighs heavily, as if she's annoyed with the whole process. I find this hard to believe. Any one of her dozens of injuries warrants days of healing and rest. I watch closely as Althea works.

The old woman moves her hands rhythmically along the young girl's body. The arrow stays where it is for the time being and it unnerves me the way it moves up and down with every breath the girl takes.

After only a few seconds, Lovelace grabs Althea's arm and directs her gaze up to her. "I don't care about the other injuries," she growls. "Just get the arrow out of my shoulder. I have to get back to the gym."

Althea puts her other hand over Lovelace's and pats it, "You must let me work Lovelace. I know you are-"

"He's going to cut me out of the rest of the practices if I don't get back there!" she suddenly screams. "Do you know what that will mean? This is my last chance! My _only_ chance!" She thrusts Althea's arm off of her own. "Get the arrow out or I will do it myself!"

I suck in a deep breath and look at the old Healer. "Althea," I ask softly. "Can I help?"

The old woman sighs. "Lovelace," she answers. "Gunnar will not cut you out of the practices because you lost to Arrows today-"

"Don't. Say. That. Name." Lovelace growls. She glares at the old woman with a look that sends chills all over my body. "I did not loose to him today." Suddenly Lovelace grabs for the shaft of the arrow that's still dug in her shoulder.

Before she can start pulling, I place my hand on top of Lovelace's. "I can help you, Lovelace." I look into the girl's eyes, dark brown with flecks of green. I'm surprised that Lovelace hasn't thrust me aside or yelled at me yet. I take a deep breath, "Please, let me help you."

Slowly, Lovelace releases her grip on the arrow and I glance at Althea. She's watching us closely, but there's nothing in her expression that tells me to stop. I proceed by placing my palms on Lovelace's shoulder on either side of the arrow and continuing to look into her eyes.

"I want you to breath for me," I say steadily. "Breath deeply and slowly."

Lovelace takes a deep breath, waits a few seconds and then slowly releases it before taking another one. I see the energy from Lovelace's body, pooling in her eyes like little orbs of light. I feel my palms begin to warm as I beckon the light there, willing it to knit together the broken strands of tissue that surround the arrowhead. As it does, the shaft of the arrow begins to quiver and vibrate. Lovelace grimaces visibly for the first time and I hush her. "Breath. In and out, in and out."

I begin breathing in the same pattern as I continue to pull the energy to the severed tissue in Lovelace's shoulder. The arrow shaft continues to protest until it slowly starts backing out of Lovelace's shoulder. My hands are glowing with heat and the energy pooling there lights the shoulder up in a pale glow. Blood starts trickling from the surface of the wound and it sizzles when it comes in contact with my hands.

I can see that Lovelace is starting to loose consciousness. Her eyes have glazed over and are rolling into the back of her head. Her entire body has gone slack against the small bed. I continue to work until, finally, the arrowhead in Lovelace's shoulder falls to the floor with a clink. I push my hands firmly against the skin where the arrow had pierced, sealing the wound from the outside as Lovelace's eyes slide shut.

My hands drop from her shoulder and I stumble backwards, suddenly feeling very tired. I look down to the bloody arrow laying at my feet and bend down to pick it up. It's long and black and heavier than I thought it would be.

Althea's hand appears at my shoulder, "Well done, Elena. You should sit and rest." I allow myself to be guided to the edge of the bed where Lovelace lays sleeping. I sit down and lay the arrow across my knees, smearing blood across my white linen pants. I take a deep breath while I look down at my patient.

"Who did this to her?"

Althea is very quiet and I can feel her eyes on me. "I know you have many questions Dear, but I'm not sure that I'm the one to answer them."

She sits down on the edge of the bed next to me and places her wrinkled hand on top of mine and squeezes, "You are a very talented Healer. Your skill far progresses your age. How did you know to Heal the arrow wound from the inside out?"

"My mother taught me," I answer quietly. It's difficult to talk about Mom, so I usually avoid doing it. It always brings up memories and images of her death. But for some reason, I keep going. "She taught me everything I know about Healing." I look over and see the surprise in Althea's eyes. "She wasn't a Healer," I amend quickly. "She wasn't even Gifted. She was a nurse."

Althea smiles slightly, her amber eyes warm. "Just because your mother cannot mend the body without suture does not mean that she does not possess a gift."

I think about this before answering. "You're right. She knew early on that I was Gifted. I remember my dad being so scared. He wanted me to hide my Gift, but Mom argued with him. She told him that my Gift was a special one and I was meant to use it to help people. She started taking me to her office after that. She taught me everything she knew about the human body and how to heal it. She taught me to prioritize a traumatic injury based on the dangers to the patient's airway and circulation." I look back down at Lovelace. "I knew her airway was okay because she was screaming at us loud enough-"

Althea nods, "And you were right to ask her to deep breath. Good thinking, Dear."

I look back down at the suddenly unassuming arrow lying across my knees. I hold it up with the arrowhead at eye level and twirl it in my fingers. "I knew pulling the arrow out would cause a lot of bleeding and the only way to manage it was to Heal as it came out."

Althea squeezes my other hand again before letting go. "Your mother is a very good healer. She must be very proud of you."

I don't correct her use of the present tense. I just smile sadly. "I hope she is."

I go about the rest of my day in a daze. My conversation with Althea keeps replaying in my head and it makes me feel good. _She must be very proud of you._ Althea is right. Lilith Carey was a very gifted healer and if it hadn't been for her, I wouldn't be the Healer that I am today. That evening I tell Elliot about Althea and Lovelace. When I do he grins at me – all lopsided and easy going – and jostles my shoulders.

"Good going, Sis. Show 'em how it's done."

It's nice to see him acting more normal. Like the Before Elliot. Everyday I see more and more of that Elliot. A corny joke here, a good-natured laugh there. Wiggly eyebrows and crooked smiles all around. _Maybe he's moving on and accepting our new life here._ I wonder if he still thinks much about Max and the Resistance. If he does, he doesn't talk about it. He made a promise to me and I know that he'll keep it. Just as I've kept my promise.

It hasn't been easy though. Some primal instinct keeps dwelling on that boy with the grey eyes and hooded face. I try my best to ignore it, but something keeps bringing me back. A tug somewhere deep inside me that pulls at my chest every time I think about that night. I want to ask around about him. To see if anyone knows anything about the mysterious stranger that runs around Royal City at night, helping people escape from situations they should never be in in the first place. _Does anyone see that hooded figure? Or is he just a blur to everyone else?_

At night I dream about him. I never remember exactly what happens in these dreams, just that he's a part of them. But just as he did that night at the bar, he keeps his face hidden from view. I always awake with his voice ringing in my ears, _Danny. My name is Danny. _


	13. 12 Danny

_12. Danny_

"Arrows! Block her! Keep moving and block her!" Gunnar's deep voice startles me as I dodge another attack from Fallon's spear. "Excellent job Fallon, but hitting a moving target takes more concentration than that!"

I do as my Master tells me and keep moving. The only times I pause are to release my breath and take another one. Even at full speed Fallon still manages to invade my defenses and I'm struggling to pinpoint exactly where she is in the ring. Presently, I see four Fallons, all slicing the air around me with a spear. Dodging all four attackers is taking its toll on my stamina. If I look hard enough, I can see the shimmer of light around the three hallucinations that allow me to pinpoint the real Fallon. I narrow my eyes and point my bow at her. I release the breath I am holding and my arrow flies straight and true.

It soars right through Fallon as she dissipates in a cloud of smoke. As I realize my mistake the pole of Fallon's spear collides with the back of my head. A flash of light sparks in front of my eyes and I fall instantly to my knees, my head in my hands. I kneel there, unable to move for several seconds, giving Fallon more than enough time to get in my head. I can feel her there, prodding around against my will, but there's little I can do to stop her. When my vision returns I focus my eyes to see her kneeling in front of me. Her black eyes bore into mine and a thin smile spreads it way across her face.

"Move Arrows!" Gunnar's voice jars my senses and I leap backwards in a full flip, landing on my feet several yards away. Fallon stands where she is, small and thin and looking altogether harmless. But I know better. Her looks are deceiving.

I pull an arrow out of the quiver on my back but it turns to ash in my hands. I can feel Fallon messing with my head. I tell myself that it's just a hallucination, but no matter how hard I try I can't make the arrow reappear. I reach for another one but there's nothing there. My bow has disappeared too.

I draw a breath and reappear on the far wall from where Fallon still stands motionless, her spear dangling unused at her side. The distance from her clears my head a little, but I still can't get my weapons. Even the dagger I keep in my boot is gone. I know they have to be there, but knowing that doesn't make them appear.

Fallon doesn't move. Her face is completely devoid of expression, her mouth set into a neutral line and her eyes staring straight at me, unblinking. Any other opponent would be taunting me right now, asking what happened to my weapons and why I'm not attacking. But not Fallon. She rarely says anything in the Tester's gym, at least not aloud.

I tighten my hands into fists and charge at Fallon full speed. My boot collides with her collarbone, knocking her backwards several yards. I suck in another breath and move in a blur at her, my right fist striking her in the side. She crumples forwards and I catch her around the throat. Before she can blink I shove her against the wall and pin her there by her neck, several inches off the ground.

She doesn't fight me. Her eyes remain locked on mine, her small mouth set into a thin hard line.

I wait, expecting Gunnar to congratulate me. My Master remains silent. "Give up, Fallon," I growl between gritted teeth. "You've lost."

She smiles then, eerily, and her eyes suddenly turn bright pink before fading to a soft violet. "Have I?"

My grip loosens on its own and Fallon's feet slowly touch the ground. Her face continues to morph. Her jet black hair grows into a long braid that hangs loosely over her shoulder before turning several shades lighter. Her mouth widens, her lips filling out and turning a soft pink color. She smiles, but the light from it does not make its way into her now violet eyes. "Hello Arrows," she whispers. "It looks like you've been a busy boy."

My hand drops instantly to my side, releasing its position around her neck. She doesn't speak in Elena's soft voice and her inflections don't carry her warm country accent, but it shakes me to see her standing here. "H-How?"

The girl in front of me smirks, her eyes narrow. "How did I know? It's all there," her finger comes up to my temple and she traces it along my hairline to the middle of my forehead. Her touch is cold and clammy. It sends chills over my whole body. "Inside your head."

I take several steps backwards in shock. It's all Fallon needs. I feel myself crumple to the ground. I know the apparition standing in front of me is Fallon and not Elena. _It's just a hallucination. It's not real. _I keep telling myself that. But Elena's eyes are staring at me, clear as day.

She moves slowly towards me and then kneels down directly in front of me. Her violet eyes never leave mine. "I can see it all, Arrows."

I stare back at her in a daze, unable to make my mouth form the words in my head. _Get out of my head. _

She grins, "I don't need to be in your head. It is written all over your face. What is her name?"

I try my hardest not to think of Elena. I worry that if Fallon can see her in my head, she might see more about that night at the bar. Where I'd been... What I did... I glance around the room frantically. The lights, the smell, the sounds. I keep my attention focused on the training arena.

Elena's mouth turns in a wide knowing grin, "The girl can be used against you."

_I won't let you hurt her Fallon. _The thought strikes me like a bolt of lightening and I feel shaken by it. It surprises me.

A cruel laugh erupts from Elena's mouth then. "Hurt her?" She leans forward so that her face is only inches from mine. Her breath smells foul. "I am going to use her... to destroy you."

Before I can respond, her violet eyes widen in shock before turning pitch black. Her mouth gapes open and she staggers from her kneeled position and drops to both knees.

Startled, I fall backwards. I realize my hand is gripping something. Something that is stuck in Elena's side. _No, not Elena, _I remind myself, _Fallon. _I look down and realize that my fingers are gripped around the hilt of my dagger and its blade is lodged in her left side. I let go and scramble backwards, as far as I can get from her, until my back is pressed against the far wall.

I stare across the ring at her as Elena's braid slowly disappears and Fallon's short black hair returns. As she falls to the floor her black eyes roll backwards into her head. My vision fades and my head spins. Blackness closes in over me suddenly and I fall into an abyss. I know I can't fight it, and I don't try.

I awake after what feels like several hours. My head is pounding. I try to sit up and my headache immediately intensifies. A pair of hands appears on my chest and gently pushes me back against the bed. I can hear a soft voice murmuring in my ear, but my head is too foggy to determine what's being said.

"Where am I?" I mumble.

"The Healing Quarters."

I open my eyes to see the source of the voice that answers me. Elena looks down on me with worry in her eyes. I start at the sight of her. "It's okay. You're safe here," she whispers.

She reaches out and soothes the hair back from my forehead. Her hand feels cool and I suddenly realize how hot it is in the room. "Elena..." I breathe.

She looks at me questioningly. "Elena? Who is Elena?"

"Wha-?" I rub at my head, trying to subdue the throbbing. I close my eyes tight and reopen them. When they refocus, Elena has disappeared. My uncle sits in a chair on the opposite side of the room, looking at me worriedly.

"Danny?"

I groan, take a deep breath and push the heal of my palm into my forehead. "Uncle Dagher. What are you doing here?"

"Waiting on you to wake up. Are you alright, kid? You were mumbling in your sleep something fierce."

I nod my head, "I'm okay. Just a little shaken up."

Dagher's face slowly stretches into a wide grin. "You beat her, kid. Gunnar had to come tell me himself," he stands up and claps a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. "None of the other Testers could do it, but you beat her. Your first day in the ring with her and you beat her."

I look at my uncle and then at the foot of my bed. I see Fallon sitting there, her spear lying across her lap and her thin mouth pulled into an unnerving smile. Blood oozes out of a wound on her side and pools underneath her. I can just make out the halo of light shimmering around her. I blink a few times and she disappears.

"Fallon? Is she..." I can't complete the thought. I clear my throat and try again, meeting my uncle's eyes. "Is she okay?"

Dagher frowns. "That is what you wish to know? You want to know if the girl who nearly killed you is okay?"

I wrinkle my forehead. "Nearly killed me?"

I try to sit up again and my head explodes with light. Fallon's cruel laugh fills my ears. I grimace, grit my teeth, and bring myself up into a sitting position.

"Easy, Dan." Dagher's arm wraps around my shoulders and I slump against him helplessly. I've been the victim of Fallon and her mind attacks dozens of times before, but I've never felt this disoriented in my life. It's like I'm floating several feet off the ground and can't get back down.

"What happened to me, Uncle?"

"Fallon happened to you." Dagher answers simply. "Gunnar said she had you so deep in your hallucination, he didn't think you could see the spear. He said if you had waited a second longer, she would have buried it in your chest."

My hand goes instinctively to my chest and for the first time since awakening I realize that I am bare from the waist up, my skin slick with sweat. It drips from the back of my hair and runs down my back. The bed sheets are soaked. Althea told me once that the heat in the Healing rooms is to help the body flush out toxins. Right now it just feels suffocating.

"Her spear?" I push through the fog in my mind, but don't remember Fallon's spear ever being anywhere near my chest during our fight. All I can remember are the violet eyes. _I am going to use her... to destroy you._

The hallucination reappears at the end of my bed: Fallon, with lifeless black eyes staring at me. A wave of nausea crashes over me. I shudder and close my eyes. It's the only way I can make the Fallon sitting on the end of the bed disappear again. I run my hands through my hair and focus on my breathing. My mind races with images from the past week, and as always, they keep going back to Elena. _Why do they always go back to Elena?_

"Uncle, I think I need to lay back down."

"Of course," Dagher replies, and helps me back down on the bed.

"The dagger. Did it... Did I stab her with it?" I'm sure I know the answer, but I wonder how much of the fight I hallucinated and how much of it actually happened. And how much of it I missed.

"Yes. Althea wants you to stay here tonight. She has been with Fallon, Healing her..." I open my eyes. "Yes, she is okay. I will let Althea know that you are awake as I leave. She can come calm your mind again."

I nod, suddenly feeling the weight of the last several days bearing on me like a vice grip. I can feel every cell in my body and their combined weight on the mattress below me. As if I was made of lead: lifeless and heavy. All I want to do is close my eyes and succumb to the the darkness that's fading the edge of my peripheral vision.

Before I can do that, I feel something small and metal being laid in my open palm. My vision rests on my uncle's face as it dances in and out of focus at the side of the bed. "Be careful with this, Dan. Don't let them see it." He speaks softly, a whisper that I wonder if I'm dreaming. _Am I already asleep?_

Dagher leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. I look down to see Aari's pendant coiled neatly in my left hand. I want to reach up and lay the pendant against my chest, to feel its cold metal against my skin, but I lack the energy to make myself move. Instead, I close my hand into a fist and shut my eyes.

I never hear the door open when Althea returns and I sleep through the entire Healing session that follows.


	14. 13 Elena

_13. Elena_

I knock on the door to Galen's chamber, hesitantly at first and then with more purpose. I keep reminding myself that I have no reason to be nervous, but something about the Head Healer makes me uneasy. Part of it is the way he moves – walking with his white robes always billowing behind him so that it looks like he never actually touches the floor – and the other part of it is how he always seems to know everything that goes on in the Healer's Quarters. It hasn't been more than a day since my Healing session with Althea and Lovelace, and I'm certain that's the topic of my impromptu meeting with him now.

His smooth velvety voice floats through the closed door, "Come in, Elena. It is open."

I turn the knob and push, entering the small room. The smell of astringent and rubbing alcohol – the scent I always associate with the Healer's Quarter's – hits me immediately. I've only been to Galen's chamber once, right after I was inducted as a Royal Healer, when he discussed my training and told me that Salvia was going to be my mentor.

Like all the rooms in the Healer's Quarters, Galen's chamber is small, white, and sparsely furnished. A tall row of bookshelves packed full with books and bound papers borders the room. Galen sits behind a large metal desk, a heavy leather-bound book open in front of him. He smiles and motions his long arm to a set of wing-back chairs opposite him, "Please, Elena, sit."

I return his smile as best I can and reply. "Thank you, Sir." I take the chair closest to the door and wait for him to continue.

He takes his time marking his place in his book before closing it and returning it to its spot on the shelf behind him. He turns back around and leans forward onto his elbows, his fingers steepled under his chin. After what feels like an eternity, he speaks. "Healer Salvia tells me that you are adapting quite well to the Royal Healers. Do you feel you are getting accustomed to your new home here in Royal City?"

"Yes, everything has been wonderful," I answer quickly, hoping to get this meeting over with as soon as possible. Elliot and Sabella will be home soon and I don't want them to worry.

"And the apartment? Has it suited you and your siblings' needs? I do wish we would have had a larger one to give you."

"The apartment has been perfect. Thank you, again. The Royal Healers have been very kind and gracious to give it to us."

"You are one of us now, Young Healer." He smiles then, but it does little to warm the cool gaze of his green eyes.

I'm not quite sure what to say to that. Despite being one for nearly two weeks, I still don't really feel like a Royal Healer. I cross my legs, then uncross them and cross them the other way in the silence that follows.

"Do you have questions for me, Elena?" Galen asks calmly. "About the girl that you and Healer Althea Healed yesterday?"

"You mean, Lovelace?" I ask, trying to hide my discontent.

Galen nods, his long blond hair brushing the top of the desk.

I pause, remembering what Mom always told Elliot about curiosity and its unfortunate feline prey. Something tells me now that I should keep my questions to a minimum. "Who is she?"

Galen answers without a breath. "Her name is Estella Lovelace. She is a Tester with the Gift of Manipathy."

_So Lovelace is a Gifted... _"Manipathy?"

"Yes, she has the ability to control the emotions of people around her. In three days the Counsel will present her with a Test. If she passes this Test, she will be an Elitist."

I want to ask what an Elitist is and what will happen if she fails the Test, but I don't. There are other questions that I am more interested in getting answered. "What happened to her? How did she get shot with the arrow?"

"A fellow Tester. A young man with the Gift of Tachykinesis and Hyperperception."

"Do you mean that he has two Gifts? I didn't think that was possible."

I know that despite being very rare, there are many different types of Gifted all over the world. When I was ten I met a man passing through our village that could foretell the weather so precisely, he knew how many raindrops would fall during a rainstorm. Another woman who lived in the countryside outside of North City used to claim she could communicate with animals, although Dad always said that lady had simply spent too much time indoors during long winters.

Gifteds are rare. So rare that I'm the only one in my village of 500 people back home. Even more rare is to be Gifted with an ability that's deemed useful by the Seekers. And having _two _useful Gifts? Completely unheard of.

Galen smiles again, a knowing smile that doesn't warm his eyes. "Arrows is a special Tester. He is the youngest Apprentice to ever be called to the Elitists."

_Arrows... _I remember the way Lovelace spat at his name when Althea said it. At the time, I thought it was a nickname, obviously given for his weapon of choice. Now I'm not so sure.

Galen's melodic voice interrupts my thoughts. "You will find, Elena, that Gifts may be evolved as they are used and developed. I hope that we can teach _you_ that here." Suddenly, he stands up and pushes his chair back from the desk.

I don't comment on that, the word _Elitist_ keeps spinning around inside my head. "You said that Lovelace was testing to become an Elitist. Is that like the Royal Guard?"

Galen walks slowly around his desk, his long skinny fingers trailing lightly along the top. "No. Royal Guards are not Gifteds. A soldier joins the Royal Guard voluntarily after they turn eighteen. They are given special training and once they are deemed ready they serve the city. The Elitists are a highly trained and specialized group of Gifteds who devote their _entire life_ to the protection of the Royal Family. They have very special Gifts, such as Arrows' and Lovelace's, and are called to be Apprentices at an early age. They train with the Masters for years before being Tested. To pass is to become an Elitist, the highest honor for any Gifted."

I nod. I feel as if Galen is sharing highly secretive information with me for a reason, but I don't understand why. He's studying my reactions to his answers very closely, and his scrutiny is making me even more uncomfortable in his presence than usual.

"My honesty on the subject startles you, but you needn't be afraid." He crosses his arms and leans back against the desk in front of me. "Along with my title as Head Healer, I also serve as Healer to the Elitists. Just as Althea is Healer to the Apprentices and Salvia and Jason are Healers to the Royal Guard. We all have our roles here in Royal City. Your questions are safe with me, Young Healer. What else would you like to know?"

I do have questions. Many of them. _What exactly do the Elitists do? What is the Test they have to pass? How many of them are there? How are they chosen? And why is he choosing to share all this with me? _

Again, some voice deep inside of me tells me I shouldn't ask any more questions. There are other ways to find the answers I desire. I look at Galen, suppressing a shudder when my eyes meet his gaze. "It sounds like the Royal Family is very well protected."

Galen looks disappointed in my response. He continues studying me before responding. "I would like to show you something, Elena. I believe it will answer the questions about the Apprentices and the Elitists that you are too fearful to ask."

I follow him out of the office and down the hallway that connects the offices to the Healing rooms. His long robes flow behind him like a dress train. It's late in the evening and all the other Healers have left for the night which makes the Healer's Quarters eerily quiet.

Galen stops in front of a door and turns to me, his hand resting lightly on the knob. "I trust that Salvia has taught you how to find the body's energy without needing to see the patient's eyes?"

I nod, remembering our lessons earlier this week on the subject. It was difficult at first, the eyes have always been my entry point. I basically had to reteach myself how to Heal. Like when I was nine and broke my right hand roughhousing with Elliot and had to write with my left one during school. "Yes, she did."

"Very well. It is best if you allow him to continue sleeping while you perform the Reading."

I wrinkle my brow. "I'm sorry, Sir..." I look to Galen, and then to the door and down the hallway again. "But I'm not sure I understand."

Galen turns the doorknob and silently pushes the door open, "Just focus on the energy and I think it will become clear to you. He can tell you much more about being an Apprentice and a Tester than I ever could. You will understand."

I look past him to the outline of a sleeping form on the bed inside. "Is that... Arrows?" I whisper, my nerves coming to life in my abdomen.

Galen nods, motioning me into the room, "It will be easier for you to Read him if he continues to sleep. His body will tell you everything you need to know, but if you still have questions, you may find me in my chambers afterwards."

I take a few steps into the room, watching Galen intently, wanting to tell him that I'm not even sure what a Reading is and if I know how to do it. I glance at the sleeping form again, a boy, about my age, lying on his stomach with his face turned away from me. His chin-length black hair is wet with sweat and spread over his pillow in a tangled mess. He's naked from the waist up and his bare back rises and falls rhythmically in his sleep, each breath making a soft snoring sound on its way out. Arrows doesn't look injured. I really don't know what I'm even doing here.

I turn back to say this to Galen, but he's already leaving, clicking the door shut quietly.


	15. 14 Danny

_14. Danny_

_I walk along a very long vacant street, somewhere in Royal City, lined with tall steep buildings that I can't see the top of. A heavy fog covers the ground in front of me. I don't recognize this part of the city, though that doesn't matter. I just kept walking, one foot in front of the other. Left right, left right. Cutting through the fog like I know where I'm going. Where am I going? Does the destination even matter? I know I am dreaming and I can't make myself care. _

_Beside me a woman walks, her stride slightly behind mine. I don't know who she is. I should probably ask, but it doesn't really occur to me to ask. Some part of her feels familiar and I know that I am safe in her presence. When she speaks I hear her more with my head than with my ears. Or is that my heart I am listening with?_

"_Are you making a new path for yourself, Dan?"_

_Her voice is strong, but melodic. It makes me think of honey and warm summer nights. I continue on, my eyes straight ahead. "My path has always been this. I will be an Elitist. That is all there ever was." _

"_Is it? I wanted more for you than that." _

_I stop walking, the fog rolling around my feet, urging me to keep moving. Always moving. Her familiarity nags at me, prodding me to look at her and identify her. I turn to her, facing her blurry outline in the fog. I know her, don't I? I've seen her before, in my dreams, on the back of my closed eyelids when I first came to the Apprentices. _

_My mouth moves and my voice is heavy with grief that I don't understand, "Why are you here?"_

_Her image shifts, blurring around the edges like one of Fallon's hallucinations. "I am always here." _

_Something deep inside of me stirs. It brings heat to my face, but before I can respond she dissipates and fades out of sight. I blink and the scene around me changes._

_I am in the bar. Alexis is singing on stage and swaying her hips behind the microphone stand. I stand in the middle of the room unnoticed by the few people there. Except for Elena. She sits at a table just a few feet in front of me, smiling at me. I stare back only briefly before joining her. She hasn't invited me, but it's what I want to do._

"_I didn't think I'd ever see you again," she says, still smiling. Her is voice warm and soft, just as I remember it. The scent of honeysuckle pervades the of it grow from the walls and trail along the floor._

"_Did you want to see me again?" _

"_Yeah," she laughs and it makes me smile. "I think I did." _

_What is it about her that's making me feel so... comfortable? I should be worried that she might identify me._

"_Do you know who I am?" I ask. I'm not wearing my hood. My face is there, plain for her to see. Not that she's ever seen it before. I should feel naked and exposed but I don't. _

"_I do," she answers. "Arrows." _

_I don't like that she calls me Arrows. Only the other Apprentices' and Masters call me Arrows. It sounds and feels wrong coming from Elena with her country inflections and emphasis on the first syllable. Air-rows. _

"_Do you know why I'm here?" she asks, leaning forward over the table and bringing her face within inches of mine. Her violet eyes peer at me questionably. _

_I shake my head, struck silent by her sudden close proximity. _

"_Hm..." she studies me closely, her eyes scanning over my face slowly and lingering in certain areas. I swallow hard. "That makes two of us then." She releases a sigh and sits back into her chair, once again putting some space between us. _

_I realize something then. I don't feel the physical attachment to Elena that I did before. The invisible rope that once tied my chest to her is gone and I feel suddenly vulnerable. Odd. Shouldn't I feel freed?_

"_Can you answer something for me?" I ask her. _

"_I can try." She looks back at me, waiting patiently. _

"_That night in the bar..." I glance around at our surroundings and realize we are no longer in the bar. We are standing in the alleyway, under the awning where I last saw Elena. Rain pours down silently all around us. I look back at her. "Did you feel it too?"_

"_You mean here?" she asks softly. Her hand comes to rest against my chest, right over my heart. It races wildly beneath her fingertips. I nod._

_She doesn't answer for a while, just stares up at me with her hand against my chest like she's reading me very carefully. I search her face, her eyes, her lips. When she finally speaks her voice is a whisper. "I didn't at first, but I can't forget you. That's strange, isn't it? That I can't forget someone that I don't know. It worried me at first." She narrows her eyes at me and knots my shirt in her fist. I realize she's gripping Aari's pendant beneath the fabric. "I can trust you, can't I Arrows?" _

_I don't know how to answer her question. Part of me wants to scream, 'Yes of course you can trust me!' The other part wants to shake my head sadly and slip into the shadows. _

_Finally, I look down at her and say, "We will have to trust each other." _


	16. 15 Elena

_15. Elena_

I stand over Arrows, my wet hands waiting patiently at my side. I still don't fully understand why the Royal Healers use the water. Something about the act of 'cleansing'. It's the same reason they keep the temperature in the Healing rooms so warm. I can't tell that either ever make any difference.

Arrows sleeps like he's been tranquilized: deep and restful with his face buried in the crook of his elbow. The muscles in his back move under his pale skin with each steady breath. Light from the candle beside the door casts both our shadows against the far wall.

I know where I should start to get the best picture of his energy: with my hands over his heart. But his awkward position in the bed makes that difficult. Hesitantly I place my left palm and then my right against the middle of his back, between his shoulder blades, where the back of his heart rests against his spine. His skin is like fire to my touch, damp with perspiration. He stirs slightly, holding his next breath for a beat too long before slowly releasing it. I too let out a long breath with him, realizing for the first time how nervous I am.

I'm not sure I like the idea of being here with him. It's like I'm invading his privacy, here to peer into his body's secrets without his permission. Something about it just feels... wrong. I briefly think about just sitting in the room with Arrows for a few minutes and only pretending to Read him, whatever that even means. But Galen would know. And I like the thought of lying to him even less than I like the current situation. Giving into the inevitable, I close my eyes...

With Arrows being completely uninjured and in no actual need of a Healer, his life energy is bright and easy to find, even with the awkward position and closed eyes. It pulses in the center of his chest like a lighthouse, strong and vibrant. Arrows is a Tester. I don't know yet what that means, but I can tell that whoever he is, he's full of vitality.

I watch, waiting for the light to show me where I need to go next. But it doesn't move. It just stays put, pulsing slowly with each slow steady heart beat. Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump.

_Of course it doesn't move. And why would it? Arrows doesn't need to be Healed, does he? I have no real reason to be here. So what now?_

I try to think back to what Galen said. _Just focus on the energy and I think it will become clear to you._

_Focus on the energy. Come on, Elena. You can do this._

I stare hard at it, using every bit of my own life energy to focus on that rhythmic beacon. Ba-bump ba-bump. It's draining me, focusing this hard on something. Trying to make something happen when I have no idea what that something is supposed to be. It's like staring at a spoon and trying to make it feed you.

Just as I think it's hopeless the light flickers. It's not obvious. If I weren't paying such close attention I never would have seen it happen. But it definitely moved, if only barely. I keep focusing, feeling myself getting lightheaded and weary. It's all I can do now not to collapse. Then, suddenly, the pulsing ball of light races towards me and faster than I can react, it envelopes me.

Arrows' body is like Lovelace's: littered with dozens and dozens of old injuries. Evidence of scar tissue surrounds most of his joints, particularly his shoulders and knees, but the muscles that connect them are solid and strong. Healed tissues speak to me and images of battles flash in front of me, showing me how the injuries got there. At first I assume that the other children he's fighting are enemies of the Royal Family, until an image of Lovelace comes up and I realize they are other Apprentices.

And I know now what the Apprentices are: a group of children, ranging in ages from four to eighteen, who spend every waking moment training and learning to become Elitists. I know that their first years are spent in the classroom and when they turn twelve they begin their combat training. I see that the oldest injuries in Arrows' body are a least a decade old, which means he's been an Apprentice at least that long.

And Galen was right, Arrows does have extraordinary Gifts. His body has the ability to move at the speed of sound and his senses are impeccable. His ears can hear incredible depth and his eyes can see amazing detail. I wonder what a burden it must be to never get silence. Then I realize he has the ability to tune his senses down, just as he can tune them up.

I watch all of this in awe. Images fly past faster than I can focus on them. The details are lost but I can make out faces I've never seen but somehow have feelings about. I wonder if that's Arrows' mind telling me more about the people that it's showing me. I try to open myself up to it, to allow his memories and thoughts to tell me more, but there's some sort of hazy disconnect that makes it hard to understand them. I get the sense that his mind has recently been under turmoil, but I don't know what from. Salvia's just started teaching me how to Heal the mind – an area of Healing that I've not been previously familiar with – but unfortunately I haven't advanced very far.

I continue to find traumatized tissue and watch as pictures of the mechanisms of trauma fly past me. An injury in Arrows' shoulder, only a few days old, shows me the opponent who's responsible for the most recent physical trauma. Eventually, the images start getting slower and slower until they become too difficult to hold on to. I feel myself slipping from the energy and it begins to right itself inside Arrows' body. Finally it returns to his chest and takes its place, beating alongside his rhythmic heart. Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump.

When I open my eyes again, I look down at the sleeping boy in front of me with new insight. A big part of me fears him and what I know he can do and has already done. He has a capacity for violence that I can't even begin to understand. His hands have been trained for combat and destruction.

But there's another part of me, a part that's probably bigger than it should be, that feels pity for him. No family, no parents. No one ever held his hand to walk him to school, read him bedtime stories, made his favorite dessert for his birthday, or let him crawl into their bed when it was storming. I can't imagine growing up without the kind of love and support I received from my family.

He stirs in his sleep and it brings my attention to a scar along the back of his right shoulder blade that I haven't noticed before. It reminds me of the violence that he grew up around, and the violence that awaits him as an Elitist. I understand now, at least more than I did before, what it means to be an Elitist. To Arrows, it means a realized goal. Something he's been fighting for his entire life. Quite literally.

I think of the arrow I removed from Lovelace yesterday and the scar that the girl will live with for the rest of _her_ life. Whatever sorrow I felt for Arrows diminishes. It's easy to pity him when he's laying there sleeping, his face buried in the crook of his elbow and the pictures from my Reading fresh in my head.

But there's no doubt, Arrows is a trained killer. And he's dangerous.

With that final thought I leave Arrows in his small room and walk back to Galen's study. I feel I can't get far enough away. Originally, I didn't have any intentions of actually asking any questions about the Reading. I expected that I'd want to leave for my apartment as soon as I could, but there's one question that I must have answered tonight.

I knock and instead of calling for me from his desk like he usually does, he answers the door physically. "You were successful in your Reading."

"I was," I answer steadily.

"And you have questions you'd like me to answer?" Galen turns to the side to allow me to enter the room, but I stop him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Only one."

He turns back to me, intrigued.

"I want to know. What area of Healing are you training me for?"

For the first time since I met him, Galen seems taken aback. "You want to know who it is you will be assigned to as a Royal Healer? That is your question?"

I nod.

Galen studies me intently, obviously deciding his next words very carefully. "Normally we would not decide until your strengths are identified."

I don't stop to think that maybe this is a question I shouldn't be asking, but it's too late to take it back now. "...But you already know where I'll be assigned," I respond quietly. "Don't you?"

Galen remains silent.

"Or else you wouldn't have had me Read Arrows-"

"Healer Salvia is mentoring you through the basics," Galen answers suddenly and sternly. For all his talk of honesty and not being afraid, he doesn't seem pleased to be answering this question. "Once you are ready, you will be an understudy to Healer Althea."

"You mean..."

Galen's intense green eyes settle hard on me. "You will take Althea's place as Official Healer to the Apprentices."


	17. 16 Elliot

_16. Elliot_

"Elena?" I call into the dark apartment, closing the front door behind me. "Elena, you home?" I've taken the responsibility of picking Sabella up from school everyday after my last delivery, which means Elena always makes it home before I do. We even get home later than usual today because I took Sabella to get ice cream. She had a spat on the playground with a fellow classmate and needed a pick-me-up.

"Where is she?" Sabella asks, her small fingers gripping the back of my arm.

"I don't know, Bells. Late I guess." I lead her over to the small kitchen table and light the gas lantern that sits on top of it. "Stay here, I'm going to see if she's in the bedroom."

She looks at me and nods hesitantly. Since Mom's death, Sabella doesn't like being alone. And since Dad's arrest, I'm what you might call... protective... of my sisters. Elena's unexpected absence has caused an uneasy feeling to creep into the pit of my stomach, but I don't want Sabella to pick up on it. I grin at her and ruffle her hair, "She's probably playing hide-and-seek with us. You better start picking out where your hiding spot will be when its our turn to hide."

It takes less than a minute to search the apartment and confirm that it is indeed empty. I return to Sabella, trying to look casual. "She's always been a good hider, huh?"

"So are we going to look for her?"

"She'll be home soon, Bells. It's late, I'll try to find something for us to eat and then its bedtime."

An hour goes by. I heat up some leftovers from the previous night and force myself to eat as I urge Sabella to do the same. Then send her off to bed. She argues, wanting to stay up and wait with me.

"School tomorrow, remember?" I remind her. "When you wake up in the morning, she'll be here. Promise."

She finally agrees and I close the door to the bedroom.

I grumble, kicking my toe along the railing of our balcony that looks down into the street between the neighboring building. It just isn't like Elena to be gone this late... Some part of me knows she's safe. _She's my twin and if something terrible's happened I'd know it. Right?_

Frustrated, I cross my arms across my chest and start pacing, scanning the balcony absent-mindedly. Patience is not a virtue that Elena and I have ever been blessed with. It's a trait, Mom always said, we inherited from our dad.

I go back to the railing, peering into the street below. It's vacant, dark and empty._ What if she got lost?_ Elena's never been good with directions or navigation. _Or what if she's been called before the Counsel again? _

A shudder runs through me.

"That's it. I can't sit around waiting anymore."

Just as I'm grabbing my keys, there's a knock on the front door. I'm at the door in two strides, only pausing a second to wonder why on earth she's knocking. _She lives here! _

I pull it open and let out a very annoyed sigh at the sight of the girl waiting on the other side. "What are you doing here?"

Max leans against the doorframe, scrutinizing her nails. They are shiny and red, like her lips. _Why am I looking at her lips?_ I shake my head of my thoughts.

"What? Not happy to see me?" She rights herself, those sapphire eyes catching me in a sly smile. "Where you expecting someone else?"

I open my mouth to tell her to go away.

"Like maybe your sister?"

"What do you know about my sister? Where is she?"

"Relax, Handsome. She's fine, just working late at the Healer's Quarters. I'm sure she'll be done soon." She waves off my worries with a flick of her wrist. "Now are you going to invite us in, or not?"

I look past her to the tall skinny guy standing behind her. I eye them both carefully. "How do you know where Elena is?"

"I told you," she smirks, her index finger coming to rest against my chest. "I know everything that happens in my city."

"Maybe so," I answer. "But that doesn't mean that I should trust you."

"You're right, it doesn't." She leans into me, pushing against my chest with her finger. "You want to trust me though. I can see it in those violet eyes of yours. They're quite catching, you know. I don't think I've ever seen anyone else with that eye color. Except your sister of course."

She pushes off my chest and brushes past me into the apartment before I can respond. Her companion follows, nodding his blond head at me as he passes.

I spin, following them. "What are you doing here, Max? Couldn't stand me turning you down? And who is this guy?"

She laughs, a clean light laugh that makes her seem younger. "I like you, Elliot. You're curious. So many... " She paces along the small kitchen table, her fingers brushing across the back of a chair before she sits in it. "...questions. And I promise I've got all your answers. But that's not why I'm here."

"Then perhaps you'd like to enlighten me." The door shuts behind me and I cross my arms over my chest, waiting.

She motions to the tall skinny blond. "This is Jack. Jack, Elliot."

Jack grins. His mouth is full of crooked gnarly teeth, which catches me off guard. "Pleased to meet ya, Friend. I'm what you might call Miss Maxine's number one, her right hand man."

Jack pauses thoughtfully, "Of course, Miss Maxine is left-handed. So I guess I should be her left hand man, yeah? Or maybe-"

I turn back to Max. "Why are you here?" I ask again.

She steeples her fingers on the table in front of her. "The Resistance needs you, Elliot. And I think you need us, too. The Counsel is preparing for something. Something big."

I raise my eyebrows, "Like what?"

She chews on her lip a second and I watch her closely. "We don't know yet. That's why we need you."

"Why me?" I ask cautiously.

"Because you're a Northerner and your sister is a Royal Healer." Jack answers. "Miss Maxine reckons she can trust the two of you." He stands behind Max with his hands on the back of her chair. They both watch me carefully.

I shake my head, my arms tightening across my chest. "Out of the question. I'm not involving Elena again."

"And what would _she_ say to that?" Max asks, her eyes narrowing.

"It doesn't matter. It's not happening. I almost got her killed at that bar last week. I'm not letting her anywhere near something like that again."

"What happened at the bar was due to your own ignorance and unpreparedness. It won't happen that way again." Max responds.

"It's true, Friend," Jack adds. "Once you're in, you'll know when we have to cancel a meeting, yeah?"

"The meeting was canceled? So we went through all that for nothing?"

"We were tipped off about the Royal Guard hours before the meeting was supposed to start." Max picks at her nails.

Jack adds, shrugging, "Sorry, Elliot. We just couldn't risk it."

This only makes me angry. "Is that supposed to make me feel better about what happened that night? I nearly got my sister killed for _nothing_."

"We're not trying to make you _feel_ anything. We're just stating facts," Max answers calmly.

I roll my eyes, "Well it doesn't matter. It's not happening."

Max's hands go up in front her face, surrendering. "Fine, fine. I get it. You're crazy over-protective of your sisters. I don't blame you."

I wonder briefly about her sincerity behind that statement, but I let it slide.

She continues, despite my frown. "But let me ask you this, how do you plan on saving them? And do you even know what you're saving them from? You can't hide from it forever, pretending that your life here in this city is what you want it to be."

"It doesn't matter." I repeat, glancing at Max and then Jack. "It can't be changed."

"Of course it matters. What's the point of being here if it don't?" Jack asks incredulously. He rakes a hand over his blond head, ruffling his hair. "Wow. That's a depressing point of view, that is."

"Are you planning on pretending to be happy for the rest of your life?" Max adds.

"I'll figure something out."

She grins at me, all white teeth and red lips. "Oh really?"

"Look, I'm not putting my sisters in danger. Whatever I decide to do or not to do, I act alone. It's not worth getting them involved." I pause, realizing that my voice is rising. "There are some things more important-"

"More important?" Max huffs, her demeanor changing quickly. She slams a balled fist into the table. "There is nothing more important-"

"My family is!" I growl. I frown, turning away. "Or at least what's left of it."

Her hand on my shoulder startles me. There is a gentleness in the gesture that I haven't associated with Max. She turns me toward her.

"I understand," she says softly. "You've lost a lot because of this city and its secrets." She looks back at Jack before continuing. "We all have."

Jack frowns at me. "You can help, Mr. Carey. You can help stop the hurting' and the loosin'."

I sigh and stare at Max for what feels like a long time. I don't know why, but I find myself trusting her. Maybe it's that she's a Northerner too. Or maybe it's the passion that lights up her eyes whenever she talks about the city. Maybe it's that she puts into words every thought I've had about Royal City since moving here. Whatever it is, it makes a part of me – a part bigger than I would admit aloud – want to hear her out. I even like Jack, with his friendly voice and jovial laugh.

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think you knew how important it was." She pauses before meeting my gaze again. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think you'd say yes."

I sigh with a feeling that I'm resigning to something bigger than myself. "What do you need me to do?"


	18. 17 Elena

_17. Elena_

I keep Galen's revelation about the Apprentices to myself for three days. I don't like hiding things from Elliot, but I worry what his reaction will be. Actually, I know what his reaction will be: outrage, anger, paranoia, accusation. He's trying to keep his promise to me. He's trying to make it work here in Royal City. Each day he's more and more like himself. Before Elliot is back. My carefree and charismatic brother with the goofy lopsided grin and wiggly eyebrows. A laugh here. A wink there. A few corny jokes. Maybe it's selfish of me, but I don't tell him about the Apprentices because I don't want that Elliot to go away again.

Even so, there are times that his pain is still evident in his eyes. I can see it there, just below the surface. But to be fair, I don't really get to see my brother much in the days after discovering my true role as a Royal Healer. I have to stay late hours in the evenings, sitting in Galen's office and learning about the Apprentices and the Elitists. How the Seekers seek them out from all over the world before presenting them to the Counsel, much as I was only a couple weeks ago. How the Counsel votes on the Gifted's admission as an Apprentice. Only a unanimous vote earns Apprenticeship. All others are cast aside. I've wanted to ask what happens to those children that aren't deemed worthy, but fear of the unknown keeps my mouth shut.

I learn that most Gifteds join Apprenticeship between the ages of five and ten, but occasionally the Seekers discover one at an even earlier age. Like Arrows. I learn that he was only four when they found him. The prospect astounds me. Small children being snatched away from their families and their home and drug off to a foreign city to train as soldiers. I realize some of them probably can't even remember life before Apprenticeship. The images weight heavy in my heart.

Galen teaches me of life as an Apprentice: the strict schedule, merciless Masters, and intense training; the sparring gyms for honing skills and meditations intended to improve focus; the personalized dietary portions and sleeping schedules. They're put in the sparring gyms when they turn twelve. Incredible. When I was twelve I was still learning to use my Gift. Though, to be fair, I only had my non-gifted mother and an old Healer's book to teach me.

I'm not sure it's worth it, though. I can't image having every aspect of my day – my _life_ - planned and monitored. Only one afternoon out of the week is reserved for what Galen loosely terms as "free time", though I can't picture any part of that lifestyle being "free".

After my private lessons with Galen I go home, weary and head spinning with questions. I spend a couple hours helping Sabella with her studies while Elliot cooks dinner. He eats with his head down and his eyes on his plate, deep in thought. Every once in a while he'll chime in with a grin and joke, reaching across the table to ruffle Sabella's hair while she chatters on about school and local gossip. I try to pay attention but I'm tired and my mind always goes back to what I learn at the Healer's Quarters that day. As soon as dinner is cleaned up and Sabella's bathed and in bed, I return there at Galen's insistence. My lessons about the Apprentices continue each night, but with a different teacher.

For three nights after the first Reading, Arrows returns to the Healer's Quarters. I asked Galen about it after the first night, wanting to know if all the Apprentices slept there. He only answered by reminding me, "Arrows is no longer an Apprentice."

Althea is there with me and she teaches me to Read Arrows. Together, we subdue the foreign images that race around his thoughts. I can't see any of these thoughts clearly, that disconnect is still there, but even still it's fairly easy to determine which ones cause him distress.

Althea is a good teacher: patient and kind. Her wrinkled hands lay on Arrows' body like they know where to go without Althea having to guide them. She's obviously Healed him many many times. I watch her closely, picking up on her movements and doing my best to imitate them. The muscles under Arrows' skin don't relax under my touch the same way they do under Althea's. If anything, it seems that he tenses every time I touch him. As a Healer, I first take this as an insult. My hands are supposed to bring comfort and healing, not pain and mistrust. But Althea just smiles knowingly at me and murmurs, "It's okay. He just knows my hands better. They're more familiar to him."

And Althea goes to work, closing her amber eyes and humming softly. I follow suit.

As I focus on keeping the illusions at bay, I see more and more about Arrows. The violence and horror of him frighten me. Although I never meet Arrows while he's awake, my time spent in his body and mind makes me feel as if I somehow know him. And the more I learn about him, the more baffled I am by him.

While old Healed injuries tell me stories about his violent history as an Apprentice, there's something about him that speaks of a selfless nature. At first I mistake it for personal neglect and attribute that to his current disconnected state, but I soon realize it's in his heart. The same place in the middle of his chest where I start every session. Each night I lay my hands there and the beacon of light that pulses from the center of his chest becomes my guide into his soul. I see every truth about him during those brief moments before the illusions of his mind take over and I have to wrangle with his hallucinations.

With each Reading I learn more about him. There are the obvious pieces of him there, plain to see. He's strong, fast, smart. He knows how to track and fight and kill. His body is as hard and powerful as his mind is sharp. Years of training and fighting have created lightening-like reflexes and steeled focus. His Gifts – tachykinisis and hyperperception, as Galen worded them – are perfectly developed.

When I look deeper, I see his loyalty and determination. His honesty, courage, and dedication. And deep down, further into his soul than perhaps he's even gone, I see even more. He longs for friendship and family, he questions his abilities and skill, he wonders about his past and his future... I feel his joys, pains, and fears through this pulsating light, and it confuses me, conflicting with the first impression I got of him.

The last night I am with him is the first – and only – time I see his face. When I report to Althea, I find Arrows' head in her lap. He's curled up on his side, wrapped tight in a blanket. It reminds me of how the mothers in Northern Territory swaddle crying infants. I'm baffled by the vulnerability of him.

I was expecting the face of a warrior, of a fighter and killer. I was expecting his visage to be hardened and cruel. But what I see is a young man – he can't be much older than I am – with a frown and a pained expression . Althea's hands are lost in his head of black hair as she mutters soothing words over him. I watch while he relaxes under her touch, the edges of his grimace softening at the sound of her voice. I stare openly, drinking in his features. In that moment I feel more connected to him than I have during any of our Readings.

Later, when we're done with the session, I ask Althea about him. The old Healer is kind and gentle and I trust her completely. I'm not afraid to ask her questions like I was with Galen. I want to know where he's from, how he came to be an Apprentice, how long he's been in Royal City... I want to know if all the Apprentices are like him. But all the old Healer offers is that Arrows is unique and he will be a fierce Elitist. "Unlike Royal City has ever seen." I can see pride in the old woman's eyes as she speaks of him.

Afterwards, we stand in the hallway while Arrows sleeps soundlessly behind the door. We worked longer than the last two nights to calm his mind this time and I feel drained and empty. I want badly to go back to my little apartment, curl up in bed, and drift into a dreamless sleep, but something stays me.

Althea has her hand against the grain of the wood door and a sadness is in her old eyes that I've never seen there before.

"That was the last time I will ever Heal him," Althea says softly.

I think I understand. It's hard to leave something behind that you've known for a long time. I felt the same way as we rode away from Northern Territory on a train bound for a new city. "You've known Arrows for a long time," I console.

The old Healer nods. "Almost his entire life."

I wonder then, for the first time, what Althea's fate will be after I take her place as the Royal Healer for the Apprentices. I wonder if Althea even knows her own fate. Or whether or not she knows that I'm her replacement. And then, as if she can read my mind, she turns to me with a sad smile.

"Elena, many years from now, when you've done this for as long as I have, you will have seen dozens of Apprentices come and go. Most of them will frighten you. They will be fierce and relentless warriors. You will look into their minds and see only their competitive spirit and insatiable appetite for violence. In their eyes you will see loyalty, determination, and drive, but they will blindly follow orders only meant to kill and destroy. There will be no youth or innocence in them.

But then, when you are most questioning virtue and integrity, there will be one who stands out from the rest. They will be kind and honest. They will show compassion and selflessness, even when they are surrounded by egotism and deceit. You will look into their eyes and see more than just what the Masters have put there. And you will know, from your heart, that they are destined for great things." Althea turns from the door. Tears are in her amber-colored eyes and they shine bright in the dim light of the hallway. "That is who Arrows is to me."


	19. 18 Elliot

_18. Elliot_

I feel rather out of place as I look around at the faces of Max's followers. I've never been good at numbers, but I'm estimating about forty people are in the room. I stand near the back of the group, between a couple who appears to be in their early thirties and a young girl who can't be more than twelve. The range of ages surprises me. I don't know what I expected the Resistance to look like, but surely they're more uniform and soldier-like in my thoughts than the group that stands around me. These people look harmless, hardly able to stir a revolution. I look at Max, who stands at the front of the room talking excitedly about her plan.

"This is an advantage that we've never had before. A key to the inside. Behind the scenes access to the Capital Rings! All of our attempts to take our city back from the grip of the Counsel have brought us to this."

Her eyes are sparkling with her excitement, making them even bluer, and her hands gesture wildly as she speaks. It's not hard to see... she alone holds the key to uniting this group of misfits.

"The Royal Healers have privilege to information about the Counsel that we've never thought we could get to. Until now. With Elliot and his sister's help, we'll know their plans for the city. We can prove to the people who's really running the show. We can show them how the regions outside of Royal City are suffering."

I can't take my eyes off of her. She is totally in her element, no doubt about that. All around me, people are nodding along with her. A tangible stirring of emotions courses around the room. Her excitement is contagious, and I find my own heart rate increasing.

"For too long we've lived with the Counsel and their unfair rule of our city. The Gifteds deserve a free will! The regions deserve an opportunity to grow! The Royalists deserve the truth! And we all deserve our freedom!" She flings her fist up in the air and everyone in the room follows suit, shouting and whooping. I look around and then find myself joining in.

We whoop and holler for a solid three minutes. All the while Max and Jack stand at the front of the room, cheering louder than anyone. Her smile is so genuine, so true, that I forget for a moment how screwy my life has been over the last two years.

When she jumps down from the stage and makes her way over to where I'm standing I have to fight the urge to bear hug her the way I used to do my sisters. She stops next to me, still with that huge smile on her pretty face, and pokes me in the chest. "See, Mr. Carey" - extra emphasis on the _Mr._ - "we aren't a bunch of wild criminals after all."

"I don't know if I'd go that far," I grin and nudge her in the arm. "Most criminals _do _return to the scene of the crime." I gesture around us. "Lacy's? Even after the raid?"

"It's the last place the Royal Guard would expect, isn't it?" She winks at me and nods her head towards a table in the back of the bar. It's not too far from the one Elena and I were sitting at when the Royal Guard nearly caught us.

I follow her there and we sit and order a round of drinks. Several Resistance Followers come by while we wait for our order and Max excitedly introduces me to all of them. There are about forty of them and it seems she knows them each by name. _How's your wife doing, Carl? Timothy, is the new job working out? I am so happy for you, Julia. Tell Mandy I say hello. _I watch her silently as I sip on my drink. After a few moments she peers at me over her glass and raises her eyebrows, "So... what do you think?"

"About what?" I ask.

She sets her glass down and gives me what Elena would call a what-do-you-think look.

I let out a breath and glance around us. Lacy's has turned back into a normal bar, but there is no mistaking the energy that's still in the room. It's electric.

"I think..." I pause and look at her again. "I think you're incredible."

Her red lips part and her mouth drops open. Not the answer she was expecting. I don't imagine there are many people in this world that can surprise Max, but it seems that maybe I'm one of them.

I chuckle and take another drink. "I don't know how you've done it, but you've managed to take a bunch of misfits and turn them into something with purpose." I raise my glass to her in a toast. "That, Miss Tesla" - extra emphasis on the _Miss - _"is what I call _incredible_."

Her glass clinks against mine, and she shakes her head and looks around at the Resistance Followers, "They aren't misfits, Elliot. They're people. They're school teachers and nurses and mechanics and students. They _are_ Royal City. The _real_ Royal City." She looks me straight in the eyes then, causing some kind of ridiculous circus act to happen in my chest. "The Counsel is trying to take that Royal City away and replace it with something else entirely. They try to hide it, but there will always be people like us to fight for it."

What she says is true and I know it. I've had this sneaking suspicion for a long time now. That the Counsel is hiding something from the Royalists and outlying regions. I learned about the Counsel in school like every other kid did, but something in our lessons about them never sat right with me. It wasn't until I was thirteen, only a year before my mother was taken from me, that I was convinced that something sinister was going on in Royal City. It was something my father said to Mom when he didn't know I was in the room... _Lilith, the Counsel would never allow it. The Royalists will never know the truth. No one will._

I may never know what it was exactly that Dad was talking about, but the words seem clear enough to me. _The Counsel is hiding something_. Before meeting Max I never thought I might actually figure out what. She approached me at the Courier's Post earlier today with a 500 page textbook of Royal City history in her hands.

"I've got some light reading for you, Handsome," she said in that smooth voice of hers. "I hope you're a book person."

"Umph..." She dropped the book unceremoniously in my lap as I responded. "If this is your definition of 'light' then you seriously need to get a dictionary."

She smirked at me, and flipped the book open to where it was marked, "I think you'll find this section here quite enlightening." The page she pointed to was titled _The Royal Family: A Genealogy _and it was covered in underlined sentences and handwriting out in the margins.

"You're quiet the scholar," I asked. "Aren't you?"

"That book has been in my family for a long time," she answered with a serious look. "Don't loose it. Keep it safe."

"Sweetheart, nothing is safe when it's with me," I said with a wink, feeling a bit like the old Elliot. The pre-Royal City Elliot. She seems to be able to bring that out in me better than anyone.

I think about the book now. It sits under the sofa in our living room where I hid it after getting home from the Post today. I haven't gotten a chance to read it yet, but I plan on staying up late to start tonight.

"Max," I drop my voice and lean towards her now, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything, Handsome," she leans into the table, closer to me, and I can smell the soap in her hair. She wears it down and it tumbles over her shoulders and nearly falls into her drink. The alcohol is flushing her face, making her cheeks rosy and her blue eyes shine. She's gorgeous and I wish she wasn't. Pretty girls have a history of clouding my judgement.

I smirk at the nickname and press on. "Why me? Why Elena?"

She eyes me closely before answering. "You came looking for me, remember? I only wanted to present you with the opportunity of meeting me after all your trouble the first time."

"I understand that," I say. "But you say you've got this plan for the city and with my sister and me you can make that happen... What is it? What's the plan and where do we fit into it?"

She shifts her gaze away from me – a tell tale sign that she's hiding something – before answering. "We all have our roles in taking the city back-"

"Don't give me that crap," I interrupt. I'm not angry, not yet, but I'm annoyed that her go-to response is to placate me with generic mumbo jumbo. "I'm not an idiot, Max. I know you have a reason for wanting my sister and me in your plans."

She eyes me closely for a few seconds before she leans further over the table and brings her red lips close to my ear. Her breath is warm on my neck. "You're right. You and your twin _are_ special, Elliot. And there will be a day that it's safe for me to tell you why..." She leans back so that her face is right in front of me. Her nose is only inches from mine and there is a fierce sincerity in her eyes. The thought of kissing her flashes through my head and I image that she would taste like the liquor in her drink. Sweet and tangy. She looks down at my mouth as she adds, "But today is not that day. For now, read the book. It will prepare you. I promise."

I can't explain it, but for some reason I believe her.

Hey eyes flicker to mine and I feel her fingers graze across my skin, moving some hair off of my forehead. "Those eyes..." she murmurs. "They really are something..."

I'm going to kiss Max. Not right now, and maybe not tonight. But it will happen.

I'm pulling my eyes off of her lips when Jack joins us at the table. "Elliot!" he slaps me on the back and whatever moment Max and I were sharing is gone. "Glad you could make it, Friend!"

"Hi Jack," I answer. I take a drink, which ironically clears my head. I catch Max staring at me and I raise my eyebrows at her over my glass. Her red lips part into a smile and she settles back into her chair.

Jack grins, "That was some speech, yeah?"

I nod agreeably, "Sure was."

"Everyone is still talking about it, Miss Maxine!" Jack adds excitedly.

"We're on the precipice of something big, Jack," she answers. She winks at me, finishes the rest of her drink, and adds, "Something _very_ big."


	20. 19 Danny

19. Danny

I do not beat Fallon again in the Tester's Gym. During our matches, I spend all my energy blocking her from seeing more images of Elena. I can distantly hear Gunnar yelling instructions at me, but all my concentration goes towards building walls around the few memories I have of Elena. Despite my barriers, Fallon still uses her against me. I see images of her suffering and crying out for me, of her calling to me in pain. They aren't easy to ignore and I have a difficult time remembering they're only hallucinations. It's nearly impossible to remain focused on the fight with my head full of her screams, her violet-colored eyes crying in pain.

The three remaining days training with Fallon are ruthless and I spend each night afterwards in the Healer's Quarters. I try battling the hallucinations on my own. It's weak to rely on the Royal Healers to do the fighting for me, but Fallon's images are too strong. I can only take the grief of watching Elena die so many times before I pass out from the anxiety of it. Under Althea's curative hands, Elena's suffering screams subdue so I can sleep. Even then my sleep is full of fitful dreams that leave me feeling stressed and tired.

In the morning I reflect on my matches, wondering why it should bother me so much and why Fallon chooses to focus on that one particular tactic. I don't really know Elena and I have no reason to care about her well being. The Royal Family is soon to be my one and only concern, so really Elena is a distraction that I can't afford ...but there is something primal about my interest in her. Something I can't explain. In the morning at the Healer's Quarters, I wake up and spend a few quiet moments alone with my thoughts. My mind always goes to her. I don't know why.

On my second morning there I ask Althea about it. "Why am I so perceptive to Fallon's mind attacks? How is she affecting me now more than she did when we were Apprentices?"

Althea answers by smiling knowingly, "You are different now, Prodigy. Fallon preys on those things which terrify you most. She knows that your heart is full and there is much at stake."

I don't question it. I know I'm different now from what I was two weeks ago. I guess all Testers feel that way right before their Test. When I awake to my last day as a Tester I lay in bed for half an hour before I get up. It's the longest time I've had with my own thoughts since my night out in the city. _Was that really only a couple weeks ago?_ It feels much longer.

I think first about the Test. It's only seventeen hours away and for the first time in twelve years, I have the entire day to do as I please. I'm meeting Gunnar and the other Testers outside of Counsel Hall at midnight, prepared for whatever fate awaits me. As I have a million times, I wonder what my Test will be. What it will entail and if I'll be able to complete it. My mind goes to my uncle and I wonder what his Test was. I know it would do no good to ask now. Elitists don't speak of their accomplishments freely. Their tattoos are the only part of them that speaks of their deeds. I don't know how many of those Dagher has – the only ones that are visible are the the ones on his wrists and one up the side of his throat – but my bet is a lot.

I absent-mindedly rub my hands over my wrists, as I've taken habit in doing over the past several days, thinking about the tattoos I might be earning in only a matter of hours. I hope I'll make Uncle proud.

I shake my head. I don't want to think about the Test. I start to think of Elena then, but as I've taught myself to do against Fallon, I quickly think of something else. Automatically my mind goes to Aari. I realize with a sudden pang that I miss her. I haven't seen her since I found her sleeping in my bed the night of the bar incident. Mechanically, my hand goes to the pendant hidden under my shirt. I pull it out and look at it closely, just as I've done dozens of times since she gave it to me.

I don't know what the strange symbols on it mean, but the engraving of the dove on it comforts me. I guess that's because I associate it with Aari. Elitists and Apprentices do not normally communicate. I assume that's to quell any curiosities the Apprentices might have about what it's like to be an Elitist. It's still six years before Aari will be eligible to Test – unless of course she's like me and they call on her earlier – which means it could be a long time before I'm able to openly talk with her again. I know she'll have time after her sparring session with Master Zane that I can see her, and I don't want to miss my chance. I dress quickly and make my way to the Apprentice's Gym.

In the two weeks I've been away from the Apprentices, Aari has gotten better. No surprise there. She's always been a fast learner and she's very talented with her Gift. I enjoy watching her spar with my former classmates. She makes short work of Landon and Blane and another Apprentice that I don't recognize. I soon realize that he's the new _Timewalker_ Aari mentioned. And she was right, he's not very good. The boy is crashing into walls left and right, doing a terrible job of controlling his acceleration and deceleration. He's new to the sparring gyms, so he must have recently turned twelve. Only slightly younger than Aari. She dispatches him in only a couple of minutes. I feel myself smiling with pride.

It's getting close to the bell, but there's still enough time for one more opponent: Gwen, who is five years Aari's senior. Gwen's Gift isn't typical of an Apprentice's. She has the Gift of Hindsight. Which means she can touch an object and see events associated with that object from the past. It's a Gift meant for detective work, not battle. I've never understood why the Seekers were so interested in her in the fist place. I'm surprised the Counsel ever decided to make her an Apprentice. I do have to give it to her though, she is an excellent swordsman.

Without a helpful Gift to mimic, Aari's Gift is useless in the ring. She's learned a lot in basic fighting since becoming an Apprentice, but she isn't near as good as Gwen. In a matter of minutes Aari is pinned down with Gwen standing over her and the tip of her blade inches from Aari's nose.

Master Zane sounds the bell, signaling that sparring is over. Gwen walks off towards the door and Aari pushes herself up from the floor. She is frowning. Aari does not like loosing.

I jump down from my spot in the seats and make my way over towards her.

"You did well against her," I say as I approach.

Aari brushes some dirt from her trousers, "I disagree."

"You're much younger than her. You will get there."

"Hm. Perhaps." Her gaze follows Gwen out of the gym. Finally, she meets my eyes, peering at me as if suddenly realizing I'm there. "You should be preparing."

"I am preparing," I answer. I try to sound resolved, but she doesn't look convinced.

She studies me a beat more and then heads towards the bench where her things are still laying. "Perhaps preparation is different for different people."

Aari gathers up her stuff and I take a seat on the bench beside her while she packs up her bag. Her curly mop of brown hair bobs in beat to her movements. She keeps it short, I assume, to keep it out of her way during a fight. When she was younger it made her look boyish, but that's fading as the angles in her jawline sharpen and the youth of her face is replaced with something I can't quite put my finger on.

"Your Test is tonight."

"It is," I answer.

"Then why are you here? Should you not be with your uncle?"

"I will see Uncle Dagher," I respond. "But I was thinking about you earlier. I wanted to come by to say hi."

"Well?" she looks at me, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Aari isn't typically very animated and the gesture looks somewhat humorous on her. I stifle a smile, "Well what?"

"You have not said hi."

I chuckle. "You are right. Hi, Aari."

Aari's mouth tugs up slightly at the corners, a bit of smile in her eyes. "Hi, Arrows."

I'm not sure what prompts me to do it but the next thing I know I am hugging Aari in a close embrace. Her head of wild curly hair rests against my chest, over the pendant, and her tiny arms wrap tightly around my back. I don't move. I just breathe and hold on to Aari like if I loosen my grip she might float away. For the first time since receiving my red envelope I realize what failure might mean for me. Emotion surges within me and I swallow to keep it at bay. Somewhere inside me the voices of my Masters and the Counsel balk at my actions, berating me that this is not behavior subtable of an Apprentice or a Tester.

I steel myself before releasing Aari. She steps back and studies me with dry eyes.

"Many of the Apprentices are saying that Fallon will be the first to be inducted," she says. "But I do not think so. I think it will be you."

Being inducted first in a class of Testers is a big honor as an Elitist. Although the Elitists don't have formal ranks, it makes you a leader of sorts to be inducted first. It even comes with a dedicated tattoo that goes on the right collarbone: a star with three bars behind it. I know this because Uncle Dagher was a first inductee.

"Why do you say that?" I ask. "I haven't been able to beat her again since our first match as Testers."

"I know, I heard."

"She's very good, Aari. A lot better than she was as an Apprentice."

"But you have something she does not have." She points to my chest, right where her pendant sits under my shirt.

I instinctively grab it through my shirt, "You told me it was for good luck-"

"No," Aari shakes her head. "I do not mean the relic. I mean here." She grabs my hand from the pendant and pushes my palm against my own chest, right over my heart. Her hand is warm and tiny on mine. "I could feel it... just now. Can you?"

I can't feel my own heartbeat, but I know what she means. "Are you suggesting that Fallon does not have a heart?" I smile playfully at her.

"Where I am from, it is called Cor."

I frown in thought. "What does that mean?"

She lets go of my hand, "There is not another word for Cor. But I think love might be close. You live with it, Fallon does not. And that is why you will be inducted first."

Love isn't something Apprentices think or talk about. And I certainly don't think it has anything to do with being an Elitist. I don't know why, but it makes me feel a little uncomfortable to hear Aari say the word. She doesn't give me any time to ponder the idea before she heads towards the door of the gym. Silently, I follow her and together we pause under the breezeway.

"I am going to meditations now," she says. "You should go see your uncle before your Test."

"I will," I respond.

"How do you feel?" she asks. I see something in her brown eyes, something I think I understand as hope.

"I feel... different." I know my answer isn't what Aari expects, but it's the best way I can describe my current feelings. "But in a good way."

"Different..." Aari slings her bag over her other shoulder, pondering my answer. She seems satisfied. "You are different, Arrows. I can see it in your eyes."

I meet her gaze and her stare is intense behind her curly bangs, "You are ready."

Several hours later I sit in my uncle's kitchen, staring at a hand of cards without really seeing them. I spent the afternoon meditating and shooting arrows at a target. Mindless tasks that don't require much focus.

"Kid? Are you going to play a card or not?"

I jump, my eyes meeting Dagher's over the tops of my cards. "Sorry, Uncle."

I throw a card down. Dagher looks at me disappointingly before placing two cards on top of mine. "You are never going to win with that strategy."

I look down and realize I've lost the game. Again. For the third straight game. I sigh heavily and let my cards drop to the table. I don't say anything. We both know why I keep loosing. My mind is far from the kitchen and our card game.

Dagher looks at the clock over the stove. It's one of the few things that hasn't been packed. Tomorrow he'll be officially moved into his new apartment and starting his new job as an Imperial Judge. "It's six o'clock. You should try to eat something."

I shake my head. "I'm not hungry."

Dagher nods understandingly. "I know you're not. I wasn't hungry before my Test either."

I lean into the table, "What was it like, Uncle?"

He sets a bowl of soup he's ladled off the stove in front of me. Steam rises in long tendrils. It smells amazing, but it turns my stomach all the same. "Eat," Dagher admonishes me. "You will need your strength tonight."

I take a few spoonfuls and the hot liquid sears the back of my throat. It burns all the way into the pit of my stomach. The heat helps loosen some of the knots there. "You haven't answered my question."

"I know," Dagher answers. "I am trying to determine the best way to." He pauses for a long time and I wait patiently. I take several more spoonfuls before he continues slowly, picking his words very carefully.

"Dan... the Test... it will not be easy. It is designed to assess all of your skills, not only your Gifts. It will seem hopeless... It may even seem pointless. You might wonder why or how, but your job is not to question. Your job is only to _do_. Your Test will be like an Elitist's Objective. If you are unable to complete it..." Dagher pauses and looks away, out the window, "...then you were never the right man for the job anyways. It is different for everyone."

"I know, I just wonder what it will be for me."

My uncle's mouth draws into a thin line momentarily, as if he's thinking on something very important. After several seconds passes he sighs. "You will find out very soon."


	21. 20 Elliot

_20. Elliot_

"So they have their own little brainwashed army?" I stare across the dining table at my sister, horrified at the news she's just told me. "The Apprentices?"

"Elliot, I don't think it's like that." Elena grabs at my arm, leaning across the table with an earnest expression. "I think they're just highly trained soldiers-"

"They're children! You said so yourself!" I interrupt, pulling out of her grasp. I stand up, gesturing towards the closed bedroom door, beyond which our little sister lays sleeping. "Some of them even Sabella's age!"

"Sh!" she admonishes me, standing up. "Someone might overhear you. Galen didn't say so, but I got the impression that I wasn't supposed to be telling anyone about what he said."

"Why are these Apprentices such a big secret? What are they hiding?" I ask, more to myself than to my sister.

Elena doesn't seem to have an answer for it. She bites at her thumb nail like she always does when she's worrying about something, which isn't often. Elena isn't much of a worrier. She's always left that up to me. And if Elena is concerned about something, I'm not taking it lightly.

"I don't like it," I respond. "How long have you known about this?"

She draws a deep breath before answering. "A couple days. The first night I stayed late at the Healer's Quarters... I was there with Galen. He told me."

"Why would Galen share this with you so soon? You haven't even been with the Royal Healers for two weeks yet."

Elena hesitates, which leads me to think she's hiding something. _But what? _"He... he says that I'm to be the Official Healer to the Apprentices after I finish my mentorship. I think he wants to see if I can handle it."

I set my jaw. "I don't like it," I repeat.

Elena remains quiet, continuing to chew on her thumb nail in thought. It seems meeting these Apprentices has made an impression on her, an impression that perhaps Royal City isn't everything she thought it would be. Maybe this is the time I've been waiting for. Maybe this will finally convince Elena that Royal City isn't what it seems and the Counsel isn't to be trusted.

"What did Galen say about them?" I ask.

"Not a lot," she responds. "Just that they train pretty much their whole lives so they can take this Test and become Elitists."

"Elitists? What's that mean?"

"It's the group that protects the Royal Famil-"

"That's a joke!" I laugh mockingly. "What garbage! It's not the Royal Family that needs protection. It's the Counsel!"

Elena looks up at me, "Why do you say that?"

"The Royal Family never leaves the Royal Estate! Why would they need protection if all they do is sit up in their mansion drinking wine and getting fat? Think about it, Elena. The Counsel is in control of the city. They're the ones making all the decisions... Wouldn't it make sense that they're the ones who'd need the protection?"

Elena looks like she wants to argue, but I can see the doubt slipping out of her eyes. I think about Max's book. The one that's sitting by the sofa, waiting for her to come by tonight to pick up. I spent all afternoon reading it. Especially the section on the Royal Family.

Most of it was stuff I already knew from school: the first Family, when the Royal Estate was built, what the Family does for the City, blah blah blah. It's an old book, published almost forty years ago, and it has the faint smell of mothballs to it. What I enjoyed reading the most – and what I expect Max wanted me to read – were the dozens of notes made out in the margins. _Why does the Royal Family never leave Royal City? How can they govern a city and make so few public appearances? Why trust the Counsel to make all the decisions? What exactly does the Royal Family do? Why do we never see them?_

And then a word jumped off the page at me and caught my attention more than anything else. It was written in large capital letters at the top of the page discussing the structure of the Royal Family. One word that was circled in several colors of ink, as if more than one reader had agreed on that thought: _Puppets. _

I flipped through other sections briefly and they were all the same. The book is full of the musings and questions of its reader, whoever that is. The obvious assumption is that Max is the one who wrote all those things, but I don't know that for sure. The more I read, the more I realized, that it didn't matter. Whoever wrote those things, I agree with them. I have the same questions that they do. And I want answers.

"Elena," I say now, "You know I'm right."

She meets my eyes only briefly. "Maybe so..." she says. "But the point isn't _who _the Elitists are protecting. The point is that I have to be okay with being a part of it."

"And are you?" I ask.

She doesn't answer for a while and I watch as several emotions wash over her face. Finally she responds, "I don't know."

My sister is quiet for a long time after that, lost in her own thoughts. She sits on the sofa with her head buried in her sketch pad like Mom used to do. It makes me miss her more every time I see my sister do that, but I'm glad that it's a piece of my mother that lives on. An hour later, close to midnight, there's a knock on the door. I'd almost forgotten Max's promise to pick the book up.

Elena looks up from the sofa where she's sketching with a curious expression as I go to open the door. I open it a crack and peek through to see Jack's lanky form. "Hiya Mate."

I open the door the rest of the way, disappointed to see Jack alone in the hallway. "Where's Max?" I ask under my breath as Jack comes in.

"Sorry," Jack replies in his drawled out deep voice. "Ms. Maxine sends her regards, but she is otherwise detained tonight."

"I see..." I'm skeptical, but I guess being the leader of a resistance group in a city as large as Royal City keeps her busy.

"Who is that Elliot?" Elena asks from behind me. I turn and see her standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Jack approaches her, his long arm held out to her. "Miss, it's a pleasure to meet you. Name's Jack."

Elena hesitantly shakes Jack's hand, "Elena..."

Jack grins at her, all white crooked teeth. "Twins!", he exclaims. His eyes move rapidly between me and my sister as he chuckles, slapping his hand across his knee, "You're twins. That's incredible, that is!"

Elena smiles a little at him, "Yes, we're twins."

I roll my eyes, "Twins, right. We have been our whole lives."

"So do you finish each other's sentences? Or think the same thoughts?" Jack asks.

Elena shakes her head, "No, of course not."

"Which one of ya was born first?" Jack asks enthusiastically. "Wait! Let me guess. Had to be... Elliot, yeah?"

"Yes. I was born first-"

"I knew it, Mate!" Jack responds light-heartedly, slapping his knee again. "That's brilliant, that is!"

Elena laughs, "Jack how do you know my brother? Do you work at the Post too?"

Jack nods, "Sure do, Miss Elena. I've been working at the Post nearly five years now. Was just a little bugger when I started there. Met your brother only a couple weeks ago. Sure is crazy looking at you now. You two look just alike! Never thought I'd see anyone else but Elliot here with violet eyes." Jack slings an arm suddenly around me, catching me off guard. I stumble a little before shrugging the larger boy's arm off. "They look grey from far away, yeah? But up close-"

I speak up, getting impatient and annoyed. Normally I enjoy Jack's light-hearted banter, but tonight I need him to help me convince Elena about the Counsel. Actually, what I really need is Max...

"Jack, I had hoped that Max was coming to get the book tonight," I see Elena's face tense in surprise and then anger at the mention of Max's name, but I keep going before she can cut me off. Or before Jack starts talking again. "I think my sister might be ready to meet her. We've been talking about this Elitist group-"

Elena's elbow in my ribs cuts me off abruptly, "Elliot! What is wrong with you?!"

"Mmpf." I look down at my sister, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"Hey, no worries, Mate," Jack starts to answer. "Miss Maxine wanted you to-"

"You can't seriously be considering telling someone I've just met the information that I wasn't even supposed to share with you in the first place!" Elena admonishes under her breath, ignoring Jack's reply. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"Of course I'm going to tell the Resistance about it," I retort. I can feel Jack eyeing us both silently. "This could be the information that we need to free the rest of the city."

Elena levels a hard look at me, "_We_?"

I let out a breath of frustration and grab for my twin's arm. "Elena, I-"

She shrugs off my hand, "What do you mean _we_?"

"I'll just leave ya to it, Mate," Jack says as he crosses the kitchen and sits quietly at the table. I watch him help himself to some grapes Elena leaves there in a bowl before I round on her again.

"What are you talking about?"

"You said 'the information _we_ need'. You've been meeting with the Resistance behind my back, haven't you?"

I realize my mistake and feel somewhat guilty. I don't lie to my sisters often and I can't remember ever breaking a promise before this. I don't answer. I can't think of a way to without coming across as the bad guy.

She shoves me then, which takes me by surprise. I see Jack tense. "Elliot, you promised!"

"Elena, I'm sorry-" I begin.

"No..." Elena's face is red and her eyes are tearing up. I know these impending signs of her anger. I haven't seen them in a long time, but I remember them well from when we were kids. "Just don't. I don't want to hear it anymore. You promised me you wouldn't go to one of those meetings again. You promised! We almost got killed! What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?! What am I supposed to do with Sabella?"

"You and Sabella are the reason I'm even doing this!" I say resolutely, trying to convey to Elena my seriousness. "I'm trying to save you from-"

"From _what_, Elliot? A _city_? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm trying to protect you!" I retort.

"Protect _us_? Don't kid yourself. This has nothing to do with us! You've been obsessed with the idea of some great evil in Royal City ever since Mom died!" Elena says coldly. Her eyes are full of anger and tears swim around the edges, making them look more purple than gray.

"Don't Elena," I warn. I can see where this is going and I don't like it. Not one bit. If she dares-

"You can't just accept that her death was a normal death. It didn't have some higher meaning, Elliot! You try to blame her death on some terrible evil that doesn't exist because it makes you feel better. Dad tried to do the same thing, and look where it got him!" Elena is shouting now, tears spilling over her lashes.

"Elena..." I somehow keep my voice steady but I can feel the heat of anger rising up my throat.

"And now, you're willing to put us all in danger so you can satisfy this stupid fantasy of yours!"

Something inside me snaps. "IT'S NOT A FANTASY, ELENA!" I shout back. "All you care about in that pretty little head of yours is pretending that everything is okay. BUT IT'S NOT! Elena! It's not okay! This isn't like your book. This isn't _The King's Carnival! _Mom is dead. Dad is in jail. That happened! You can't keep ignoring it!Don't you care about finding out why? DON'T YOU CARE AT ALL?!"

I've crossed a line there, I know it. But I'm angry and don't care. It's bothered me since Mom's death that Elena seems so put together. She hasn't fallen apart and spent the last two years looking for answers like I have. _How can she keep going when the world around her stops? _

"Go, Elliot." Elena growls, low and through gritted teeth. "Just go. Go on your stupid wild goose chase with these fanatics." She gestures angrily at Jack.

"Fine!" I grab my hat and my keys to my motorcycle off the kitchen counter. I'm at the door in two strides. "I will!"

"Fine!" Elena hollers as I look at Jack expectantly.

Jack tips his head towards Elena on his way to the door, "Miss."

She responds with a grunt and a glare.

I forget to grab the book, but I don't care. As I ride off on my motorcycle, following Jack towards the outskirts of town, my conscious threatens to guilt me into going back. But I ignore it. Elena will not win this fight. She may not agree with what I'm doing or where I'm going, but somehow I know it's for the best.


	22. 21 Danny

_21. Danny_

Six hours pass in what feels like the span of a week. I walk with the other three Testers, my bow and arrow slung across my back and bouncing lightly with each step I take. The night air is warm and muggy after a brief evening shower and I begrudge the layers of my Tester's uniform.

Lovelace walks beside me, Loch directly behind me, and Fallon beside Loch. Together we form a perfect V shape with Gunnar leading the way. I focus on the back of my Master's head as we walk through the Capital Rings towards Counsel Hall.

I feel calm, focused, and assured. My entire life has led to this night and I know that I will not fail the Counsel. _The Counsel_ _does not make mistakes, they do not falter, and they never fail_. We approach the giant doors of Counsel Hall and I wait as they open slowly to a dark interior. It's an impending hole standing between the two giant white marble statues.

Inside, the great front hall is dark except for the flaming torches that line the walls. The large round desk that normally stands in the center of the room is gone, and in its place is a large white circular sheet on the floor. Around the circle are four Masters. I recognize Master Doran at once and I am comforted by his familiar presence. Doran holds what looks like a neat folded pile of clothing. I realize it must be my Elitist uniform.

From the back of the room, a woman approaches. Her name badge reads "Quinn". I know that she is the receptionist that normally sits at the large circular desk in the front lobby. I recognize her from the many visits I've had to Counsel Hall to demonstrate my progress as an Apprentice. A sort of grading procedure we had all had to endure.

"Welcome Testers," she says loudly. Her sharp voice echoes in the chamber. "Tonight you leave behind your Masters to Test as an Elitist. But before you do, they are here to serve you."

I look around and recognize the other Masters around the circle – Asher, Seymon, and Ladywhite – as being the other Tester's Private Masters. I look back to Quinn as she addresses us again.

"Before your Test, you will undress and your Master will shave your head. You will leave behind your life as an Apprentice," she says evenly. "Are you ready?"

In unison, we reply as we've been trained to: "_I am ready to give the Counsel my service. I am ready to give the Royal Family my protection. I am ready to give the Royal Family my life._"

Quinn nods curtly and motions towards Lovelace. "We will go oldest to youngest. Lovelace, approach your Master."

Lovelace doesn't pause and she walks soundlessly towards Master Seymon. He meets her in the circle halfway, carrying her uniform and a pair of clippers. Lovelace undresses in the middle of the circle, barring more of a woman's flesh to the world than I've ever seen. She's all sharp angles and hard muscle covered in scars. She hands Master Seymon her sheathed sword and he lays it on the floor next to the uniform. Lastly, she pulls her long blond hair out of her tie and it spills down her back. I watch stoically as she kneels on one knee in front of her Master.

Master Seymon grabs a handful of her hair and speaks quietly. Without my heightened hearing, I'd never hear him. In fact, I'm not supposed to hear him. His words are meant to be private and evoke reassurance in Lovelace by banishing any doubts. But I can't help myself.

"As the hair is shed from your head, so are the failures of your life as an Apprentice. Enter before the Counsel tonight, clean and renewed." Seymon shaves across the section of hair and it falls past her shoulders onto the tarp underneath her. She doesn't flinch or falter. He continues shaving sections of hair off until it all lays beneath her in a blanket of gold. She bows her head when he's done, which looks small and naked now.

"Stand Lovelace," Master Seymon speaks louder this time so the whole room can hear. She does as she's told and he dresses her in the black Elitist uniform: long black shirt with attached hood, black leather chest piece, and close-fitting pants covered in black leather armor. He slides her black boots on and even laces and ties them. I look at her. Lovelace may look like an Elitist now, but she won't earn the title until she gets her tattoos. And that only happens if she passes her Test.

Master Seymon pulls the hood over Lovelace's newly-shaven head before handing her back her sheathed sword. She takes it and puts the attached belt around her hips. Lastly, Master Seymon bows to Lovelace, indicating that she's no longer his student.

Lovelace rejoins the ranks of the Testers. Quinn calls the next two names – Loch and then Fallon – in order of birth. I listen each time to what the Masters say as they shave. Master Asher to Loch: "As the hair is shed from your head, so are your weaknesses. Enter before the Counsel tonight, strong and pure." Master Ladywhite to Fallon: "As the hair is shed from your head, so are your enemies. Enter before the Counsel tonight fierce and determined."

Soon, it's my turn. I don't even wait for Quinn to finish saying my name before I start towards Doran. I undress, bearing my scars and pale skin unashamedly. I kneel in front of Doran, awaiting his words. I'm comforted that no one else has my sense of hearing. I feel Doran grab a handful of my hair, "As the hair is shed from your head, so is your hesitation and doubt. Enter before the Counsel tonight, sure and unwavering."

And then, in barely a whisper – so soft that Doran has to know that I'm the only one in the room with hearing even remotely good enough to hear him – he says, "If you don't you'll never make it. Trust the Counsel, trust yourself." I'm surprised by Doran's words, but I don't let myself show it. The lock of hair tumbles to the ground followed by many more.

"Stand, Arrows."

When I stand up I stare at Doran, trying to question him with my eyes. Doran continues about his business as if he hasn't said anything out of the ordinary. He dresses me in the uniform and straps my quiver and bow to my back. Then he tucks an array of knives and daggers into the straps across my chest.

When he's done, Doran bows deeply and years of instinct urge me to do the same. It's very difficult for me to stand upright. After Doran stands up, I mouth the only words in my mind at the time: _Thank you. _

Doran shows no acknowledgement, but I rejoin the circle feeling confident and ready.

We are escorted down the elevators and to another room where I stand at attention beside Loch with my arms drawn tightly behind my back. A part of it feels normal again and for a split second it's like I'm back in Master Zane's sparring lessons. But then I look around at the black marbled floors and stark empty room and remember that I am not in the Apprentice Gym. I am in a large empty room in Counsel Hall, awaiting my turn to be ushered past the door in the far corner of the room. Somewhere beyond that door my Test waits for me.

A red-headed woman stands next to the door with a white clipboard and a smug smile. She eyes us one by one in the silence.

Beside me Loch is a statue. I wonder how he spent his day. Practicing? Preparing? Knowing Loch he was probably at the gym all day. And Fallon? Lovelace? Did they spend their extra time today strengthening their mind attacks? A brief moment of panic races through me. Should I have been preparing also? Instead of wasting time on meaningless card games?

And then, as if in a dream, I hear my uncle's voice. _You will not fail. You will be a powerful Elitist. _

I let out a deep breath and close my eyes. My heart rate slows and I am ready. My name is the first to be called.

"Arrows."

The red-headed woman watches me expectantly as I approach. I stand beside her, staring ahead at the door in front of me.

"Are you ready?"

I nod. "Yes. I am."

The door opens and beyond it is a large room lined in two rows of floor to ceiling columns. At the opposite end of the room sits a large empty chair. At least, I think it is a chair until I realize it's actually a throne. It sits on a low stage a few feet off the ground with a circle of steps around it. Behind the throne is a set of heavy velvet curtains. My eyes scan the room on their own accord, from years of training. The room is empty. There are no other doors that I can see other than the one I stand in. But I'm not alone. I can hear someone breathing.

"Enter, Arrows."

The voice comes seemingly out of nowhere.

I cross the room, continuing to scan my surroundings, gauging my weaknesses and strengths here. Suddenly the curtains part and President Cane stands on the stage behind the throne. I stop where I am and stand at attention, waiting.

"Relax," President Cane smiles an eery grin and behind him the rest of the Counsel step from behind the curtain. One after another. Until all thirteen are standing on the small stage. "This is not where the Test takes place. This is only where it begins."

I remain silent. I know the rules here in front of the Counsel: do not speak unless necessary. Quinn was kind enough to tell me that the first time I came here as a child.

President Cane gestures to the throne in front of him with long thin fingers. "Do you know what this is, Arrows?"

I nod and speak a quick, "Yes sir."

"And you know to whom this throne belongs?"

"The Royal Family, sir." I keep my eyes straight ahead, unblinking.

President Cane watches me closely with steely blue eyes. He doesn't say anything again for what seems like a very long time. During that time I don't dare move a muscle. Finally, President Cane steps forward so that he's eye to eye with me, his face only inches from the end of my nose. I hold my breath and try not to shift my gaze too much.

"You have been working up to this very moment for a long time, Danny Arrows. Almost your entire life. The Counsel has spent a great deal of time and money on your training. Time and money that could just as easily be spent on a number of other things. You might say that we've sacrificed a lot to get you to this moment."

His next words are quiet, barely above a whisper, but in the stark empty room they sound much louder. "To fail this Test means to fail the Counsel, Arrows. Think of it. All that time and money... wasted. The Counsel does not look kindly on failure."

I know this is a statement meant to stir emotions of determination and pride. I try to make myself feel these things, but I mostly just feel anxious for the Test to begin.

President Cane studies me a beat more and then suddenly straightens up and steps aside out of my line of sight. I again stare at the throne, except that the twelve other Counsel members that were standing on the stage are gone. They must have silently exited the room while I was distracted by President Cane and his proximity. I know by the absence of his breath that President Cane has left also. I am alone in the room.

I look back at the throne, wondering when the Test will begin. I can feel the muscles in my abdomen tightening, my arms and legs tensing to ready themselves for whatever is going to happen next. Then, I see something I haven't noticed yet. If my pupils weren't dilated in my anticipation, I probably would not have noticed it at all, but it's there. On the throne: a white envelope with my name written on the front in familiar Counsel fashion.

I step forward, pick it up, break the Counsel seal on the back, and open the envelope all in the blink of an eye. Inside is a letter:

_**Capture Maxine Tesla, leader of the Resistance, and bring her back to Counsel Hall before dawn.**_

_**Dead or alive.**_


	23. 22 Elena

_22. Elena_

I am still angry as I hurry through the city streets, hoping I can remember how to get to that bar again. I don't know for sure if that's where Elliot and Jack went off to – chances are it isn't – but I figure it's as good a place as any to start looking. My fists are clenched at my sides and I keep grinding my teeth involuntarily, thinking about my fight with Elliot. I can't remember a time in our lives when I've been this mad at him.

I've tolerated, even understood, Elliot's attitude toward moving to Royal City. But I am furious that he lied to me and, worse, he's willing to put me in danger again. Mom used to say that he feels his emotions with every cell in his body and I've always believed that about him. Before her death, he never hid anything from me, wearing his emotions on his sleeve so to say. Now I feel like I don't even know who he is anymore. His irrational fear of the city was the only reason I kept my knowledge about the Apprentices from him for this long. But I did eventually _tell_ him.

I turn another corner and keep walking. After Elliot stormed off with Jack, I yelled into a couch cushion to let out some frustration. All it managed to do was wake up Sabella, though I suspect we'd done enough shouting by then to already do that. After ten minutes of reassurance and some strong coaxing, she wearily went back to bed. I sat up for another thirty minutes, staring at the living room wall and trying to subdue the nagging feeling that something bad was brewing. That Elliot doesn't know it, but he's walking into trouble.

Then I argued with myself for another ten minutes. I'm so tired of caring of my brother and sister – though I'll never admit that out loud – and I'm so angry with Elliot. The more childish part of my brain argued that whatever trouble he finds himself in tonight, he deserves it. Then the rational part of my brain spoke up. Elliot is a part of me and I love him, despite his recent stupidity. Begrudgingly, I threw on a lightweight jacket, checked to ensure Sabella was still sleeping, and walked out the door. Now I've been wandering around Royal City for half and hour, trying desperately to remember how to get to that stupid bar.

Just as I start thinking I must have made a wrong turn somewhere – navigation has never been my strong suit – I find the ally containing the secret entrance to the bar. I stand just outside the ally for a moment, gathering my courage and making a plan. What was it the bartender said to Elliot our first time here? _Full moon is out tonight. Can't see it, but it's there._

I take a deep breath and go inside, past the large bald man who eyes me closely. He knows I don't belong here, but he doesn't say anything. The bar smells the way I remember: dingy and smokey. On stage a three person band plays softly and a few couples are dancing.

Being in the bar again reminds me of the strange boy who helped us escape the raid that night. Danny. I haven't thought about him much since spending the last few nights in the Healer's Quarters with Althea and Arrows. But his silvery grey eyes still appear in my dreams at night. I don't think I'll ever forget his eyes.

The bartender doesn't look all too pleased to see me. When I approach, the lady frowns, "You don't look old enough enough to be in a place like this, Sweetheart."

"I... uh..." I swallow. She's right. So is the bouncer. I don't belong here. "I'm wondering about the moon... tonight?" I don't mean for it to come out as a question, but it does.

The woman eyes me up and down suspiciously, "The moon, huh?"

"Yeah. Actually... I was wondering if it's supposed to be full."

The woman leans across the bar slightly where she'd been wiping it with the cloth in her hand. She drops her gravely voice to a whisper. "It is. And the best place to see it is at the abandoned apartments in the Shopping District. On the corner of Justice and Market."


	24. 23 Danny

_23. Danny_

Only minutes after reading the letter I am hurrying through the streets of Royal City, racing along rooftops and slipping through shadows soundlessly. I don't bother trying to hide my Gift from any Royal Guards that might be watching. It's liberating to have such freedom out in the city. Jumping from building to building along the roofs is exciting, even fun. I'm smiling despite my worries about the Test.

There are many things that confuse me about the message in the envelope. _Who is Maxine Tesla? What is the Resistance? And what does the Counsel want with her?_

However, President Cane's message was clear: failing the Test is not an option. Which means confusion or not, I have to find Maxine Tesla and do whatever it takes to bring her to the Counsel. _Whatever _it takes. And I only have five hours and thirty nine minutes until sunrise to do it.

I have no idea what the Resistance is, but I have a good idea of where to start looking for them. I remember the route exactly and in only a matter of minutes I am crouched at the edge of the rooftop that overlooks the ally bar where I first saw Elena and her brother. The twins from Northern Territory. The bouncer is still there with his arms crossed over his massive chest.

The chances are slim that the secretive group that I suspected of meeting there was in fact this Resistance. And even if it is, that doesn't mean that they'll be meeting tonight, or that they'll meet in the same place twice. But it's all I have to go on. I'm starting to feel the enormity of my task. How will I ever find Maxine Tesla in time?

I stay in my crouched position, contemplating my next move. Ten minutes pass while I run a series of possible scenarios and their probable outcomes through my head. I know I should probably slip inside the bar again like last time for my best chance to find the Resistance, but I stay put. Every instinct in my body tells me to not move just yet.

I feel the familiar pull a full minute before I actually see her. My breath comes out, "Elena". My heart hammers away in my chest, my senses heightened to what my body thinks is a threat. Then she walks into the ally below me. She wears a light brown jacket pulled around her and her chestnut hair waves wildly around her face in the wind. Before I can contemplate what's happening, she disappears inside the bar.

My mind scrambles. _Should I follow her? What is she doing here? Does this mean she's here to meet the Resistance again? _I don't have time to answer my own questions. Only two minutes later she walks out of the bar and starts off down the ally, away from me. My mind barely has time to react before my body is following her, slowly creeping along the rooftops above her.

My black uniform keeps me invisible in the night and my bow and quiver bounce lightly with each step. I study her closely during my pursuit. To my trained eye I can see she's angry and in a hurry. Her hands are balled up in fists and her breath is uneven and broken. She doesn't run, but her quick walk is with definite purpose.

At first, I don't know why I'm following her. My body reacted to her presence before my mind was able to sort out the details. Part of my brain tries to remind me that I still have my Test. The other part wants only to continue following her.

As we progress through the city, I realize she could very well be leading me straight to the Resistance. She was in the bar that night, more than likely meeting with a secretive group. If it weren't for me she'd have been arrested for conspiring with that group, regardless of her true intentions. A small part of me hopes she isn't going to Maxine Tesla and the Resistance. It would make my Test very easy, but I don't want Elena to be a part of the group I'm tasked with destroying.

After twelve minutes and a little over a mile Elena stops in front of a small apartment building. Her path here was haphazard. She made several turns and then went back she way she'd came, as if she wasn't very sure about where she was going. She stands there in front of the door for a while. I sit crouching on the rooftop behind her, watching closely. When she finally goes inside, I speed across the street and scale the building's side before the front door fully closes behind her.

On the second story is a small balcony with a large window draped in heavy curtains. I climb up to it soundlessly, flip myself over the railing and press my ear against the glass. The room beyond the window is hidden by the curtain, but when I close my eyes I hear everything going on behind it.

"So what is your plan? He says the sister refuses to help, how can we still infiltrate from within?"

"She'll come around." I instantly recognize Elena's brother's voice: Elliot. "She just needs time."

The female voice that speaks next is unfamiliar, but it inspires confidence and respect. Her soothing tones remind me of President Cane. "If Elena does not wish to take part, we will not force her. You are right, Lin, we were hoping to have the support of the Royal Healer, but we can still take back our city. We still have Elliot."

Several voices arise at once in protest. "What good is he? He's nothing special! We're back where we started from." I count fourteen different responses from the crowd, but I know there are closer to forty people in the room. I can hear their murmured voices amongst the crowd.

The female answers them. "He is another voice in the city! Another fighter! He is one of us and we are all a part of something bigger than ourselves."

"How do we know we can trust either of them?" someone shouts. A few people agree.

"That is an excellent point, Jag," the female responds steadily. "How do you know you can trust me? How do I know I can trust any of you?"

A few more murmurs pass in the crowd, none that I'm interested in hearing. I focus on the female voice that's inspiring them. Subtle undertones of an accent long-ago covered up – as if she's trained herself to hide it – remind me of Elena. The long vowels and added syllables. She talks faster than most Northerners, but it's plain to hear: she is from Northern Territory. Which, I realize sadly, is another connection to Elena. _Please don't let her be a part this._

"Fellow fighters, if we start questioning each others loyalty now, what will become of us? What will be become of the Resistance?"

_The Resistance. _My muscles tighten all over my body and I am now on high alert. Elena has led me straight to the Resistance. My heart sinks. _What will this mean for her as a Royal Healer?_ She'll be subject to Trial and sentenced by an Imperial Judge. A job, I know from my uncle, that the Royal Courts take very seriously.

I don't want to think about the probability of it. Instead, I focus on my Test. Maxine Tesla is who I am here for, not the entire group. The Counsel does not have to know that Elena and Elliot are here. She is not my purpose tonight and I push her out of his mind. _I am ready__ to give the Counsel my service. I am ready to give the Royal Family my protection. I am ready to give the Royal Family my life_.

"...This city is ours and we are here to liberate her from the Counsel! To free her form the bondage of the thirteen lying snakes that have stolen her from us! President Cane will not rest until he has silenced every last one of us. But he doesn't have to use force to defeat us. He can do it by making us doubt ourselves and our resolve. So do not think, that for one minute you are a voice that can not be heard! Do not think that none of you are capable of greatness. Alone, we can do little, but together, we can save our city!"

In the whoops and cheers that follow, I hear the conformation I've been waiting for: "Max! Max! Max!" It's been less than an hour since my Test began, and I've already found her. Maxine Tesla.

I pull my bow and an arrow from my back and start to take a deep breath-

"Save it from what?"

My breath hitches in my throat at the sound of Elena's voice. I don't know why, but I still. Every muscle in my body is poised for attack, but I wait to hear what she will say. I wait to hear if she is on the side of the Resistance, or the Counsel.

"You are Elena Carey?" Maxine Tesla asks calmly.

"I am." Elena's voice is strong and angry. "And my brother is leaving with me. Now."


	25. 24 Elena

_24. Elena_

I stand in the doorway of the room, shaking with anger. "Elliot, let's go."

Elliot stays where he is, in front of a heavily curtained window and beside a girl that can only be Max. Understandably, I was expecting Max to be a man, not a woman, but she's still intimidating. And convincing. The people in the room were cheering her name as I came in. Elliot moves closer to her, folding his arms across his chest and setting his jaw, "I'm not leaving. This is where I belong."

"Have you lost your mind?!" I can't believe what I'm hearing. My rage begins boiling again, renewed from our earlier argument. "You belong with me and Sabella! Your family!"

"You are right, Elena." Max speaks softly, which makes me even more angry. Admittedly, Max is strikingly and exotically beautiful. It seems my brother's attraction to pretty girls – and their's to him – hasn't changed. She has very long black hair and the brightest bluest eyes I've ever seen. Although her skin is paler than mine and Elliot's, it still has that tan undertone that marks her as a Northerner. "Elliot does belong with his family. And we," she gestures to the many people standing in front of her, "are also his family now."

"You are not his family!" I growl. "I am. Our sister is. Our father is!" I turn to my brother, hurt and embarrassed. "Elliot, are you really going to throw all of that away?"

Max looks over at Elliot. "Elena, we do not hold your brother here against his will. He came here because he longs for truth. He aches for freedom. He desires something no one can give him." Max reaches out and snatches at the air. She looks a little unbalanced and eccentric to me. _How does Elliot not see that?_ "He has to take it. We all have to."

"Elena," Elliot speaks up. "You have to see that this is right. I know you don't want to believe it, but what Max says is true. The Counsel has made us all suffer long enough."

"Ellie, please..." I look at Elliot and my hatred begins to wan. I shake my head slowly. "Please... just come home."

Elliot looks at me with many emotions in his face and eyes. "For the first time since coming here, I am home. I feel at home here."

That feels like a dagger and I visibly recoil from it.

Max holds her hands out to me. "He is right, we are a family here. But that does not mean that we replace you as Elliot's family. It just means that your family has grown."

I look to my brother's resolved expression, then to Max, then to the faces around me. I recognize Jack, the tall friendly talkative visitor we had earlier that evening. Everyone else is unfamiliar. They all look harmless enough, but I don't feel the same connection to them that Elliot obviously does.

"You can help us," Elliot says. "Elena, you can help us save the city from the Counsel." He takes a step towards me. "We can find out what happened to Mom. We can free Dad."

I shake my head again, speechless. Something about this – about all of this – feels _wrong. _The backs of my eyes sting, but I refuse to cry.

"Elliot," Max places a hand on my brother's shoulder and he turns towards her. They share a look of importance. "If Elena wishes to join us, she will only do so under her own wishes."

I take a deep breath and another pleading look at Elliot. "I can't," I breathe as he turns back towards me. He takes a few more steps toward me, opening his mouth to say something-

Glass shatters and the room fills with screams. I stumble as a mass of bodies suddenly push against me to get to the door. I fall to the floor and yell, "Elliot!" A stray booted foot sprinting for freedom steps on my ankle as I try to stand. The bones crunch under the weight and I scream out in pain.

I look up through the tangled limbs that fling against me and see a black hooded figure with a drawn arrow pointing straight at Max's chest. He's saying something to Max, but I can't hear it through the hysteria. "Elliot!" I call for my brother again, shielding my head with my arms.

"Get out of here, Elena!" I hear him yell. I look up and see him standing between me and the attacker. "Go!"

"Not without you!" I call back. I try to stand as a few more people shove past me to get out of the room, but my ankle is weak and refuses to support me. I'm knocked back to the floor again. I could maybe crawl to the door, pull myself down the stairs, and somehow escape back to our apartment. But I can't leave my brother. No matter how irrational he's being. I look up again to survey the situation.

A group of mismatched people, Elliot included, have surrounded the stranger. I stare at the attacker, studying his features in the dim light of the room. He's a few inches taller than Elliot, his shoulders broad and firm under the black leather of his clothing. He wears what at first looks like a jacket, but upon closer inspection I see that it's more of an armor. There are wide patches across his chest where the leather is thicker and the hood he wears over his head is actually attached to whatever he wears beneath the form-fitting armor. Black leather boots are pulled over black pants that match the rest of his armor. A broad strap crosses his chest and the top of a quiver of arrows peaks out from behind his right shoulder. His bow is drawn tight with an arrow. He reminds me of the huge warrior stature with the bow and arrow outside of Counsel Hall.

I'm surprised at the number – there are about ten – that stayed back, ready to fight. Jack is one of them and he's the first to move, throwing himself at the hooded figure. All long arms and lanky legs. None of his punches or kicks connect. All I see is a blur of black and then Jack is pinned against the far wall with four arrows. He struggles to free himself from their hold, but they are buried too deep in the plaster. The stranger then appears in front of him and a second later Jack slumps forward unconscious. Two more people advance on the stranger, but again, he disappears into a blur of motion. His two would-be attackers collapse against each other, falling to the floor in a heap.

He moves like lightening, streaking from opponent to opponent so fast that at times he disappears from view entirely. I've never seen anything like it, but I know of someone who has this Gift: Arrows. I don't know for sure if it's him, but I watch him closely. He makes quick work of the few Resistance followers left in the room and before long it's only me, Elliot, Max, and the stranger still conscious.

He stands, his bow drawn and a long pointy arrow again aimed straight at Max. His low hood hides most of his face but I can see his mouth move. "Surrender now and you live," I hear him say calmly from the shadow. His voice is strong and deep – familiar somehow – but it sounds younger than I expect the owner of it to be. _Could it be Arrows?_ I'm still not sure. "I am to take you, dead or alive. I do not wish to harm you."

"Honey, I promise you I am not leaving this room under my own free will," Max replies. Her look is defiant and her body is coiled in a low fighting stance. "There is no surrender for me."

Everything that happens next happens as if in slow motion. I see my brother moving, see the arrow leave the stranger's bow. See Max jump at the attacker in surprise at the same time Elliot dives between the two of them. I know the arrow will kill my twin when it hits him and in my mind I've already seen it happen. "No!" I scream. I try to stand up and cry out in pain, falling back to the floor. "Please! No!"

And then the arrow detours, pounding into the plaster wall behind Elliot, as if it's attached to a string and someone off stage has pulled it out of the way at the last second.

"Stop!" I cry at the stranger. "Please! Stop!"

The stranger pauses, turning his hooded face towards me. In the brief second he stares at me, I feel the world drop out from under me. My breath hitches in my throat and a strong jolt in my chest startles me. I can't see most of his face – only his mouth and the glow of his silvery-gray eyes – but I know now there is definitely something familiar about him. He seems to feel it to. I can see his eyes widen and his mouth drop open slightly.

I see a decision being formed in his head, but before he can act Elliot reaches back and punches him hard in the jaw at the same time Max jumps him from behind. She wraps her skinny arms around his neck. The attacker is caught off guard and Elliot manages to kick him in the chest once. The next thing I see is Elliot falling to the floor unconscious. "Elliot!" I scream, reaching for him.

"If I die, I die as I lived! Fighting!" Max yells as Elliot's body falls to the floor. In one motion, while his hooded face is still turned towards me, Max pulls one the arrows out of the stranger's quiver and lodges it into his side, deep under his lowest left rib.

He cries out in pain and flips Max onto the floor, knocking the breath out of her. I pull myself over to my brother. He's still breathing and there is no evidence that the stranger's even touched him. I roll him on his side and pull his head into my lap, shielding him from the fight.

When I look up again, Max is laying at the far end of the room, unmoving, and the stranger is propped up against the wall beside her, holding his side. Blood pours from between his gloved fingers, the arrow's shaft sticking out of his side at an awkward angle. I watch as he lays his hooded head back against the wall and gasps loudly in pain.

I want to run, to slap Elliot awake so he can speed us away on his motorcycle. But for some reason I stay put. My ankle, I know, is broken in several places. My boot is tight and uncomfortable, my whole foot throbbing painfully; but I can't focus on the pain. Around me lay the unconscious followers of the Resistance. I don't know if they are dead or just sleeping as my brother is. I am frightened. In fact, the only time I can ever remember being this afraid is the night my mother died. When I felt so incredibly alone in the world.

_Is this Arrows? Or some other member of a secretive group in the city?_ If he's an Elitist, that means he's here under the orders of the Counsel. That thought sends a new wave of terror coursing through me. _What will_ _they do to me if they find out I was here tonight?_

But there's something else mixed in with my fear. A curiosity that's new and unusual to me. Elliot has always been the more inquisitive one, while I'm the practical one. I've lost count of the number of times he's insisted on investigating something I know to be dangerous and off limits: abandoned houses, our mother's nursing equipment, the adults-only taverns back home. But there is something about the hooded stranger... Something that's familiar about him. Something that makes me want to find out more about him. After a long silence, I find my voice and speak to him.

"Is she dead?" I ask him, gesturing to Max. "Did you... kill her?"

His black hood turns towards me, silent for a moment. The air becomes very thick in the room and I find it hard to breath. I can't even see his face, but my heart is in my throat. Then, he looks down at his captive and whatever trance I was in is broken. "No," he grunts with a shallow breath.

"Are you going to?" My voice sounds much stronger and more confident than I feel.

He takes a few shallow breaths and coughs up a little blood. It trickles down his throat as he answers shakily. "No... I do not think so."

The questions in my head just keep coming. "Why were you taking her?"

"The Counsel wants her," he speaks from behind his dark hood, his face aimed at the ceiling again. I can hear the pain in his voice. He grunts and grabs at the arrow in his side.

My stomach lurches at the mention of the Counsel. "For what?"

"I do not know," he responds. His head lay against the wall behind him and I just keep sitting on the far side of the room with my brother's head in my lap. My ankle pounds with each racing beat of my heart.

I stare at him like a scientist examining a new specimen. Even in his slouched position against the wall, I can see he's tall – six feet, probably – with a muscular build and long lean limbs. Now that he's not moving I can see that his lightweight armor is intricately woven and very sturdy. The leather gauntlets and greaves that cover his arms and legs shape perfectly to his body. Black gloves hide his hands and his chest is criss-crossed in thin leather straps that hold small weapons – daggers and knives – as well as his quiver. The armor looks like it has been made especially to fit him. His bow is on the floor at his side. _Arrows? _I want to ask if it's him, but for some reason I don't.

"I have to get to the Capital Rings," he groans, pulling his head off the wall with effort and reaching for his bow. He tries to stand up, but falls against the wall. He uses the weapon to steady himself, standing there for a moment before he collapses back to the floor again. Blood splatters the wooden floor boards under him and he clutches at his side, coughing.

"You're dying," I say softly, almost sadly.

He stays there for a moment, catching his breath before replying. "Just a... minor set-back. Shouldn't have... happened. I was... distracted."

"My brother..." I look down to Elliot. "He put his own life in danger to protect Max." His sleeping face is peaceful and youthful and innocent. Our fight feels like ages ago and my anger dissolves away. "He must really believe in what she's doing."

"No, not him." The stranger groans and coughs again. He wipes his mouth and his black sleeve comes away bloody. "I was distracted... by you... Elena."

I am caught off guard by the use of my name. I stiffen up, diverting my gaze back to him. "What do you mean? How do you know my name?"

"Your brother," he motions to Elliot before continuing. "I heard him say it... the night... we met."

It happens like in a dream. Later, I will remember every detail: his shaven head, his mouth drawn tight and his dark eyebrows furrowed in pain, his pale skin that shines in the moonlight coming through the broken window behind him. And the grey eyes that instantly meet mine from across the room as he lowers his hood. Like pooled mercury. In shock, I look down to the arrow sticking out of his side. "You _are_ Arrows," I whisper.

"Danny. Please... call me... Danny."" he responds and instantly my mind goes to that night at the bar...

_He turns towards me and in the dim light I can just make out a pair of bright grey eyes. They stare back at me from behind long black hair that drips with rain. My breath gets caught somewhere in my chest as he answers. "Danny. My name is Danny."_

Arrows – I can't think of him as Danny – swallows hard, his eyes not leaving mine. "I'm... sorry, Elena." he says brokenly.

I don't even stop to think about what he's apologizing for. My is going so fast it's hard to process anything fully. "It was you," I speak softly but I know he can hear me perfectly from across the room. He can probably hear a fly land if he wants to. "You... you saved my life. That night at the bar," I look down to Elliot, still sleeping in my lap. "You saved us both."

Arrows remains silent, wincing in pain and holding his side tighter.

"You're... Arrows," I mutter out loud. Suddenly, it makes sense why I felt the way I did while Reading him the last few nights. The confusion and turmoil makes sense now. I spent all that time in his mind, how did I not realize he was our rescuer that night? I now understand the strange connection I feel to him. The familiarity that, even now, nags at me. _Arrows is unique_, Althea had said. "Arrows was who saved us," I whisper, more to myself than anything.

I know I should still be afraid of him, and on some level I am. I know what kind of violence and destruction he's capable of. I just watched him attempt to kidnap someone and singlehandedly knock unconscious no more than ten men, my brother included. Galen's words come from somewhere out of the depths of my mind. _If she passes this Test, she will become an Elitist. _

He was speaking of Lovelace at the time, but I know the same applies to all the Testers. The same fate awaits all of the Apprentices.

"Was this your Test?" I motion to Max's unconscious body. "You're supposed to take her to the Counsel?"

Arrows looks at Max and then nods almost imperceptibly. He tries to take a deep breath and coughs. A small amount of blood trickles out of his mouth.

"The arrow is in your lung," I say. My eyes divert to the arrow and then back to his eyes. So bright and silvery grey. Just like I remember from that night in the rain. Just like they've been in my dreams. Only this time they belong to a face. Arrows' face. It's a lot to take in.

Arrows nods. "A minor set-back," he repeats. He winces in pain and tries to stand again, his gloved hand still around the arrow shaft. "Althea will... Heal me... when I return."

He grits his teeth and lets out a loud groan as he reaches down for Max. I watch, amazed, as he hauls Max off the ground and curls her lifeless body across the back of his shoulders. He stumbles only slightly, his face paler by the second. Sweat pours off his brow and his labored breathing sounds wet and ragged.

"You won't make it to Althea," I reason from my seat across the room. As I say this, he takes a few steps towards the open window. "If you left her, you might stand a chance-"

"I can't... return... without her." Each word is forced between gritted teeth. A low pitched groan follows and he stumbles under Max's weight. He coughs violently and more blood dribbles down his chin before he falls to his knees.

"You're lung is filling up with blood. You won't even make it out of this room..."

Arrows drops Max behind him and she falls with a soft thud. He wipes the blood from his chin with his shoulder before his legs gave way and he falls sideways against the wall. He closes his eyes and struggles to catch his breath. My heart reaches out to him, and a great decision lays out before me.

Reason tells me that Healing him is wrong. _He's the enemy, right?_ I'd be betraying my own brother if I did it. But, instinct tells me that not Healing him is cruel, and somehow, also wrong. I don't know what to do.

My mind goes to my mother. Lilith Carey: the most compassionate person I have ever known. What would she want me to do? I can hear clearly the words she said to Dad so many times when the discussion came up on how to keep me hidden from the Seekers: _Elena's Gift is that she saves lives. To not use that Gift might as well be murder. We can't ask her to standby. Could you do it, Aaron? Could you watch someone die, knowing that you could stop it? Or at least make it more bearable? _

Slowly, I scoot across the room, dragging my injured ankle behind me. Arrows watches me silently as I seat myself close to him and look into his eyes. They shine like pools of mercury under long dark lashes. Even now as he sits there dying I see his life force, brilliant and bright, plainly visible. My eyes go over the planes and angles of his face. His cheekbones, his jawline, the slight dent in his lower lip. There's blood on his mouth and throat. His skin is smooth and pale but I can see the beginnings of dark stubble on his chin. He has a scar over his right eye I didn't notice before.

There's something beautiful about him, but deadly. Like a cobra. I search his eyes, trying to read them, but not like I did in the Healer's Quarters. I just want to read what's behind them. To know what he's thinking. To help me make my decision. He stares back unblinking.

"Why did you do it? That night at the bar. Why did you save us?" I finally ask.

He swallows, his voice breathy and quiet as he answers, "I did it... because... it felt... right." He pauses to catch his breath and whispers. "It _was_ right."

His eyes may be bright but his face is shockingly pale. He's lost a lot of blood. Even as he struggles to breath he stares at me unashamedly, that bright light in his eyes beckoning me. I can see all the truths from my Readings plainly there: his courage, his honesty,... his goodness. Hesitantly, I place a hand over his, where the arrow is. "I can return the favor," I finally respond.

He doesn't say anything, but he allows me to scoot even closer to him. The arrow is lodged just between where his armor meets in the front and back, deep in his side. I work quickly, pulling aside the armor and ripping the fabric of his shirt underneath it in a circle around the wound. He watches me intently the entire time with an intensity that makes me aware of myself in a way that I've never been before. I pull his hand away from the injury and place my own two hands on either side of the arrow. He tenses when I touch the wound, like he always did when I put my hands on him during the Readings, and then lets out a long slow breath.

His skin is hot and electric. "Just breathe," I say. "Look into my eyes and breathe."


	26. 25 Danny

_25. Danny_

Looking into Elena's eyes is like looking into a sea of lavender. It calms me in a way that I've never experienced before. I do as she instructs and try to focus on my breathing. Until now I've never had to breathe with an arrow in my lung. Every time I inhale pain shoots through me, like I am being ripped apart from the inside out. Exhaling sends blood surging up the back of my throat. Even speaking now seems an impossibility. The effort of forming even one more word, one more syllable, might kill me. I feel weak and unfocused, as if I am looking at the world through a cloudy haze. Elena is right: I am dying.

She continues to murmur to me, which relaxes me. I don't even care that I'm dying. Elena is an angel and this is all a dream. I am watching it all happen from somewhere far away and it doesn't matter what happens after this, because none of it is real.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe..." Her voice is warm and soothing and it moves through me. I feel it everywhere inside me. My heart races under her touch, the tether attached to her stronger than ever. I stare into her violet-colored eyes and its the only thing I can feel anymore. The tug is strong inside my chest, pulling me towards her. _I'm fading._

But then the pain in my chest and side come back to me and I feel more grounded. I start to realize Elena's close proximity. Her face is only inches from mine and I'm surrounded by her lavender eyes, chestnut hair, and honeysuckle scent. I breathe it in and my body hums in response. _I'm alive._

Her hair is loose and falling around her tanned face. It's tangled and wild from the wind outside. Her forehead is folded in concentration but the rest of her body is relaxed and serene. At some level I feel naked in front of her, like she knows secrets about me that even I don't know. Even so, looking into her eyes I see uncertainty and fear. It isn't a conscious decision, but I move fast and in a blur I pull off my glove on my right hand to touch the ends of her hair.

I know my hand: the long thin fingers, the calluses, the network of veins under the pale skin, the bones in my knuckles, the scar over the back of it from a sparring match years ago. But seeing my hand in Elena's hair, my fingers intertwining the brown strands, is like seeing it for the first time. I don't know what I am doing. It's like some primal instinct is driving me. As if in its dying state, my body's last demand is that I determine if she's real or not. If any of this is real. My fingers move in her hair and then I stroke the skin behind her ear with my thumb. I've never touched anyone like this before and the intimacy of it is foreign to me, but she seems to understand it better.

Her eyes slip closed for a second and her breath comes out hitched and uneven. She swallows and then whispers, "I can't concentrate with you doing that."

"Sorry," I whisper back. "I am not sure why I'm doing it."

She opens her eyes again – violet with specks of blue around the irises, which make them look grey from a distance – takes a deep breath, and looks into my eyes. "Just... try to relax."

She said that I am dying and I know it to be true, but suddenly I've never felt so alive. I keep my fingers in her hair while she works at the arrow. I can't bring myself to let her go. The pain becomes more intense again as the arrow begins its path back out of my body, but even in my pain I feel like I'm in heaven. _If it means I get this moment with her,_ _then_ _it is worth it._

Even as I think this, my breaths aren't as labored. The pain is lessening. I can take a breath now and not feel blood surging up the back of my throat. As I look into Elena's eyes I feel happy and alive and free. Very much alive. Like every day I've lived to this point has been a half-life. I suck down great gulps of air now and can almost feel the oxygen flowing through my veins again. Every cell in my body alights with a fire and I feel like I can never move enough to use up all their energy.

Elena releases a slow steady breath. She looks down to her hands. I follow her line of sight and see she's holding the arrow – _my_ arrow – in her bloody hands. I look then at the wound and see only a faint white line where the arrow penetrated. Only then do I pull my hand away to run a finger over the scar. The skin there is hot, the blood dried and crusty.

Elena hands me the arrow and then leans back against the wall, away from me. "Good as new," she says wearily. She closes her eyes and breathes slowly.

I look at her. Her tanned face is flushed and she looks tired. Healing me has taken a lot out of her. I want to reach out and touch her again, in fact I've never wanted anything so badly, but I don't. Instead I stand up and find that she's right. It's like the arrow was never there. I've never been so close to death. Never felt the cold hand so tightly around my heart. Coming back from that is liberating. I walk around a bit and then try out my Gift around the room. When I come back to her, Elena has her eyes closed. "Thank you," I kneel down beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You did not have to do that."

She opens her eyes and gives me a small tired smile. "You're right," she says. "I didn't _have_ to. I _wanted_ to."

"Why?" I ask.

She looks at me, searching my face for something but I don't know what. "I don't know," she finally answers. "It felt like the right thing to do."

I motion to her ankle. "Your ankle-"

"It's broken."

I know that Healers do not have the ability to Heal themselves. A Healer has to see the life force in a body in order to use it to Heal, and it's impossible to find and identify your own life force. Althea told me that when she took ill with a fever years ago. "I can take you to the Healer's Quarters."

"No," Elena shakes her head then and struggles to right herself. I move to help her stand, but she shrugs me off. "I'm okay. They would only ask how it happened and I'm a terrible liar. I can bind it. I know how."

She limps over to her brother, wincing in pain every time she puts pressure on the broken ankle. "How long will it be before he wakes up?" she asks.

"Not long," I answer.

"Then you should go before he does," Elena responds. "Elliot isn't the most trusting person in the world." She sits back down next to her brother. "And you should get her back before she does." She motions to Maxine Tesla, "Or else you might end up with another arrow in you."

I watch her lay hands on either side of Elliot's head. I know that she's scanning his body, making sure he is uninjured. He isn't, of course. I know what parts of the body hold the secret to knocking someone unconscious without injuring them. I want to tell her that. To tell her that I didn't hurt her brother anymore than I hurt Maxine Tesla or any of her other followers. But Elena is right, I should go.

"Elena," I breathe. Her eyes are closed and she gives no indication that she hears me. "Thank you."

I sling the unconscious body of Maxine Tesla over my shoulder and, with a deep breath, I disappear into the street and towards the Capital Rings. I move through Royal City with a freedom and vitality that is new to me. Being Healed by Elena – brought back from the clutches of death like that – leaves me feeling like my life has a new purpose. I'm not sure what that purpose is, but it makes my heart beat no less strongly or my muscles feel no less invigorated. I make it back to Counsel Hall in what must be record time. Even with Maxine Tesla's lifeless body draped across the back of my shoulders I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life.

It's still very dark and the dawn of morning is hours away. The front of Counsel Hall is silent and still in the moonlight and on quick inspection it seems vacant. But I know it's not. I know that there is a woman standing in the dark just in front of the large double doors. Her green eyes watch me closely as I approach and gently lay Maxine Tesla's body in the center of the large symbol imprinted in the floor just in front of her.

I kneel in front of the body, my head bowed and my face obscured by my hood again. "I bring the leader of the Resistance. I bring Maxine Tesla."

"Very well," Evelyn quips. I hear an edge in her voice, but I don't think much of it. She's always been standoffish, even more so than the rest of the Counselmembers. She opens the double doors and motions inside as two large men dressed in black suits appear to take Maxine Tesla's body away. "Proceed."

I enter. The large front entry has been transformed in the few hours I've been gone. The large white sheet is gone and in the middle of the room stands an Elitist. I know this the second I look at the man. He's dressed in Elitist uniform, his hands crossed in front of him and his hooded head bowed. When I approach his right arm points to the east side of the room where the bank of elevators waits.

I follow the Elitist's direction and go to the elevators. Inside another Elitist waits for me. I can tell from her curvy figure that this one is a woman. She punches one of the buttons on the panel with what I know is an Elitist symbol on it and we silently descend. Three more Elitists point me the right way until I reach a large room at the end of a hallway.

It's mostly empty. Large columns circle the room and are draped in floor-to-ceiling banners. All of them are dark red and have the symbol of the Counsel in the middle in thick black ink: four concentric circles with the letter "C" in the middle.

My boots click and echo as I walk into the room, approaching the chairs. Sitting in the first chair, to no surprise, is Fallon. She has her hood drawn up but I knew it's her. Her tiny frame is unmistakable, as well as her posture. She sits poised and straight, like she's at attention. I take the empty chair next to her, although the last thing I want to do is sit. My energy still buzzes around inside of me and I want badly to go back out into the night and jump rooftops, scale buildings, and run as fast as I can down the empty streets.

"I admit," Fallon says suddenly, her voice stark and startling in the empty room, "that I am surprised you are here so soon."

"Why is that?" I ask. I look over at her. The black of her armor and uniform are perfect in the dim light, unlike mine which is splattered with my own blood and has a hole ripped in the side. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she looks like she hasn't even left the building.

"I didn't think you had it in you," she turns to me. Her black eyes sparkle behind her hood. They have a look in them that I recognize easily: triumph. She reaches out her black gloved hand to me. "I commend you, Arrows. Soon, we will be brethren."

I take her hand, surprised by the gesture, and shake it.

Moments before the sun rises, another Tester returns. Loch looks a little worse for wear and he doesn't have that air of confident stature that he usually does. But he takes his seat next to me with a proud smile that I've never seen on the big guy. Loch's hands rest on his knees and he lets go of a long sigh. I understand the feeling.

Lovelace never returns._ I will probably never see her again._ I feel conflicted at the thought.

When President Cane and the other Counselmembers enter the room, the three of us stand in unison at attention. Nobody speaks and my heart thuds against my ribcage so loudly I am sure everyone can hear it. The Counsel stands aligned across the room from where we are, with President Cane in the middle. He takes a step forward and eyes each of us individually.

For all the ceremonious occasions in the life of an Apprentice, one might think that being inducted as an Elitist will be the most pompous. It is quite the opposite. Though it is heavy in ritual, it is quick and rather informal by the Counsel's standards. I wait, with baited breath, to hear which name will be called first.

"Elitist Arrows."

I release a long heavy breath and step forward. If I were thinking about it, I would try to gauge Loch's and Fallon's reactions, but I don't. Aari was right. I am the First Inductee in my group of Testers. The thought makes me want to smile, but I don't. I stop in front of President Cane and drop to my knees, holding my supinated arms out in front of me.

President Cane steps aside, but not before laying a hand on my head and whispering softly, "Well done."

An old woman approaches from behind where the President was standing. She is small, not even five feet tall, and frail. Deep wrinkles crease her face and her eyes are pale and useless. She is blind, but that doesn't seem to slow her down. Her skin is tanned with many years of sun and I think she must be over a hundred years old. She opens her mouth and I see that she doesn't have any teeth. Her gums are black and rotten and her breath smells putrid. I swallow my revulsion and stay unmoving.

She stops in front of me and grabs my wrists. Her touch is rough, like sandpaper, and much firmer than I expected from someone so frail. She stares at me, though not into my eyes. She speaks in a language that I'm unfamiliar with and a fire ignites along the outline of my wrists where she grips me.

My instinct is to pull back, but somehow I stay myself. I grit my teeth and tolerate the pain with little evidence to the other people in the room. After she is done she releases my wrists. Left behind are the words that will forever mark me as an Elitist: _Bound by Duty. _The tattoo is black and the skin around it is red and inflamed in the shape of her hands.

Next she pulls my shirt collar and armor down under my right collarbone. She pushes her hands against my skin there and the fire returns. It's more intense there so close to my heart. It feels like my chest is being ripped in two and someone has reached inside of me. But it lasts only an instant, one heart beat, and then its gone. The old woman stands back. If she had her sight it would look like she's admiring her work.

I stand up and rejoin the others. I feel somewhat sluggish and weighted down compared to how I felt only moment ago. Getting the tattoos has drained some of that energy that Elena left me with earlier.

Fallon is next to go and then Loch. After they've returned to their spots as Elitist Fallon and Elitist Loch, the old woman disappears into the recessed shadows behind the Counsel. President Cane steps forward and slowly walks a line in front of us, his blue piercing gaze resting on each of us in turn, analyzing and calculating.

"Each of you were Tested with a task that we know seemed impossible, yet here you are. Do you not feel accomplished? Do you not feel that you have done the impossible? Do you not feel that you should be rewarded for doing the impossible?"

"_What we do, we do not do for ourselves. What we are, we are not for pride and reward. We are only to protect the Royal Family and abide by the Counsel." _We all answer.

President Cane smiles, standing back with his arms crossed behind his back. "And if you fail your duty?"

"_An Elitist does not fail." _

He stands silent in front of us before motioning to one of the Counselmembers nearest the door. "Elitists, I show you now what failure looks like," President Cane says as the door swings open and two Royal Guards enter the room, dragging a girl between them who is kicking and screaming a stream of obscenities.

I recognize immediately who the girl is. "Lovelace..." I breathe. Her armor has been stripped off of her and her black underclothing is torn and bloody. Her bald head thrashes back and forth in fits as the Guards drag her.

I feel Loch tense beside me but Fallon remains unmoved as the Guards drag Lovelace in front of us and then throw her to the ground. She yelps as she hits the marble floor before curling in on herself like an injured animal. She then sprawls out and screams in agony. Something is seriously wrong with her. She writhes on the floor crying and screaming. I can hardly watch, but I know it would not be wise to flinch away. I force a stoic expression on my face.

"Lovelace," President Cane says sternly. He stands over her and immediately she stops her fit and stares at him like she's just now realizing where she is. "You have failed to complete your Test in the allotted time."

"I didn't!" Lovelace cries. I've seen her loose her composure many times before, but not like this. She's on her knees now, her face bloody and streaked with tears. Her eyes are large and frightened and pleading. I feel sympathy for her on my own volition, not at her doing. "I didn't fail! I DIDN'T!" she screams as she grabs at President Cane's white robes.

"The Counsel has spent many years on your training, Lovelace," President Cane responds calmly. His voice is sweet and endearing, like he's speaking to a child. He puts his right index finger under her chin and raises her gaze to meet his. "And look at how you have repaid us."

Lovelace whimpers and swallows. "Please..." she pleads. "President Cane, I have trained my whole life for this. I've been an Apprentice since I was six! Fourteen years I've spent-"

"_WE'VE_ SPENT!" He corrects her, his voice loud and startling. She recoils visibly. "Precious time and resources. The Royal Family does not have that much time to waste on-"

"No..." Lovelace chokes out.

"-a failure," he finishes.

President Cane takes a step back and the two Royal Guards grab Lovelace under her arms and haul her to her feet again. She thrashes at her captors and her screams reverberate around the room. "Estella Lovelace, the Counsel hereby condemns you to the judgement of the Royal Courts. You are stripped of your title as a Tester and Apprentice and will await sentencing by an Imperial Judge."


End file.
